


The Dark I Know Well

by Narroch



Category: Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Body Horror, M/M, Tentacles, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-08
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narroch/pseuds/Narroch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Link enters the Shadow Temple his own shadow comes along for the nightmare ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pierce

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this back in '11 on fanfiction.net. Moved it over here to save it from the Purge of Filth.
> 
> I wrote this while recovering from surgery and was still pretty woo-woo from the anesthesia. In fact I came up with, wrote and finished this entire first chapter under the influence of some pretty heavy duty chemicals. Take from that what you will. All I know is that this was a really effective emotional detox.
> 
> I took the title for the fic from a song by the same name in the musical Spring Awakening. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQDEsxvL86E

Link knew it was a dream, the way reality shifted and danced along the edge of awareness like shadows leaping and pirouetting against the wall, jumping at the fickle will of a flame. Only here there was no fire, no walls, nothing; there was only the stretching blankness of his mind, usurped by the darkness nestled inside his bones like gangrene.

Ever since defeating his Shadow self at the Water Temple Link had felt a dark presence lingering in his body. It was weak at first, pliant and pitiful as it was forced to submit and return to the source and Link barely noticed the evil streak prowling through his subconscious.

But now that he was in the midst of the Shadow Temple, a dank narrow trench that bred blood and insanity along with the largest hive of Skulltula and ReDead that populated all of Hyrule, his dark half seemed to be feeding from the environment, growing stronger, aggressive. Manifesting himself in the only place he still survived: Link's mind.

He'd already learned how to throw illusions before Link's eyes, shadowy shapes black as dried blood, learned how to shove sensory distortions through Link's body, make it feel like his entrails were exploding, tongue sloughing off in a slimy trail, Master Sword clattering to the ground as his fingers were ripped back and _off_ , reducing his hand to a useless twitching stump, screaming until the world rang with the percussion of snapping ribs…

The Shade wasn't strong enough to hold the horrific blindfold for long, only a few seconds of terror before they faded and reality resumed its reign.

Though, in the Shadow Temple, Link wasn't sure the reality was any better since the enemies and torture chambers he encountered were very capable of making those illusions come to life.

The Lens of Truth helped, with both the internal illusions and the external enemies. There was nothing hiding in the bleeding walls that he couldn't vanquish with an adroit swipe of his Master Sword, no matter how creepy they were.

It was when Link fell into an exhausted slumber that he was truly helpless. Ever since the Water Temple he hadn't been able to sleep soundly. Link's dreams were always in this dark, swirling place filled with malice and contempt so strong it was tangible as a black fog on the air. But this was the first time that his Shadow had actually been able to form a body and make an appearance. He probably hadn't been strong enough before now, just incubating, soaking up the evil energy of the Shadow Temple before fully reviving in Link's mind.

The Megaton Hammer was swinging lazily in his reflection's grasp, strange that he had one in the dream and not in the Water Temple, and Link quickly moved to pull his hammer out as well. He knew from experience the unspoken rules of the mirror duel. Only when he reached behind him to find the sheath empty did he realize the reassuring weight was missing; another unfair dream quality, keeping the most important details from his wherewithal until it was too late.

The mirror moved toward him, dull head of the hammer gleaming under the crimson lights of his gaze.

It happened with sickening speed in the dreamscape, accelerated by Link's own helplessness, and he couldn't even move as he watched the flat target area of the hammer swing down over his head.

It slammed soundly between his eyes and that was when Link knew for certain that he was dreaming; if he really was awake the blow would have crushed his skull instantly, brains splashing out through his eyes and ears like a sieve.

No, instead it only knocked him down, sent his vision swimming through nauseous doubling and tripling effects as he pulled his hands back completely covered in blood, the atmosphere of his mind glittering with the thunder of a concussion.

He lie flat on his back writhing in absolute agony yet strangely feeling no discrete pain. The water about him abruptly turned to ink, everything coated in solid abstract black. He splashed in it, screaming silently as all light and sound were muted in the insidious milieu.

Suddenly the ink thickened into tar, heavy and binding and all-encompassing. He struggled against its dark hold but it only stretched him open as his twin strode over effortlessly through the pitch. Link suddenly realized he was naked, a usually negligible circumstance in a dream but it was now a point of palpable fear.

With Link's shadow impassively watching on the nightmare liquid bound him, spread him, coated him in oily fear until he nearly resembled his dark brother. There was not an untouched inch of skin. It slithered over his face, forced itself into his mouth, easily passing through the cracks in Link's stubbornly welded teeth in a macabre version of a kiss. It thickened, widened, turning rough, oozing, penetrating to the point of choking.

The minute sounds of distress tempted a smile to Dark Link's face and set him into motion. He swung the Megaton Hammer up again and Link was only given a second of horrified comprehension before the anvil head plunged down into his soft exposed belly.

A geyser of black erupted from his lips as the force of the blow shot everything out like so much sick. He actually felt the pain that time, on a dream-like transcendent level; the surreal agony of trying to suck air into collapsed lungs, the feeling of ruptured organs experienced in excruciating, hyper-resonance detail, his spine crushed into a wet tangled chain…

He frantically tried to reason with himself that this was a dream, that nothing was happening to him. That if he focused hard enough he could wake himself up, that the pain he felt was just a passing phantom. The rational stuttered and fell silent as an ebony puddle speared up to slide between his legs and lap roughly across his entrance. A thin thread eased past the slight resistance of his rim, so small and innocent that Link could barely feel it on top of his more impressive and urgent injuries. That was until it began to build up inside him; a heavy, black ball pressed snuggly inside his entrance like an evil cork. Slowly it pulled out, maintaining its built up girth, stretching Link's ass mercilessly as it was removed.

He let out an undignified squeal at the alien sensation and Dark Link gave a bubbling hiss in return, the closest thing he had to a laugh. The shadows responded to his mirth as well, growing and lengthening as the tendril pushed resolutely back inside Link.

The fighting Link could understand, the violence he could deal with, even the layer of shadow covering him made some sense as his Shade was just trying to return the favor since he was constantly surrounded by and trapped in Link's body. But the shadows that pushed into his ass, now moving Link's hips down onto the gleaming black shaft with rippling excitement, just didn't make sense. The innocence of his ten year old soul still clung to him in a seventeen year old body and he didn't even have the words to describe what was happening to him.

Link could only squirm, try to push the invaders out and focus on not to crying out as the sensation of dark matter plunging in and out of his ass was somehow worse than the crushing blows of the Megaton Hammer.

He didn't know how that could be possible but it was true, Link would rather have his nightmare consist of straightforward hammer blows than whatever _this_ was. This twisted, painful, degrading feeling of black tendrils forcing their way inside and pulling out bloody, the staccato beat of it setting the torture in its own unique category of crude, mortal anguish.

Link felt the dream heal his injuries from the hammer, felt bones melding back in place, organs inflating to their proper shape and size, spine untangling itself to more efficiently send messages to his brains, mostly consisting of how completely _fucked_ he was.

And suddenly Link realized that's what was happening to him, some baser instinct shining a light on the specific violence. This was fucking, or rather some warped shadow version of it. Not that he had any experience to go by, only that the word suddenly slotted into place at the same time Link noticed his twin's fierce erection. Thick and pure black like the rest of his body, it protruded from his suddenly-naked lithe form as if sniffing the heavy air in anticipation.

Link was frightened by the sight, he'd never seen another man's cock, let alone an erection and the fact that his reflection wasn't exactly mirroring his current anatomy meant either his own body was capable of sporting such a weapon or that the dark side of himself had some strange secrets. Either way it didn't bode well for his current situation and Link redoubled his struggles, not wanting to learn what it was used for.

The shadowy tendrils tightened to a fever pitch and a second stream pushed in next to the first in punishment. Link felt himself stretched impossibly wide and screamed out loud at the rending sensation.

The universe seemed to shiver around the noise, infinitely pleased with itself and, if it were possible, the dream shifted to a deeper shade of obsidian.

Dark Link knelt down, took hold of Link's spread knees and pushed them up until he was bent nearly in half. He paused there, watching in appreciation as the shadows slid enthusiastically in and out of Link's wet hole; glancing up to grin at Link's tears that cut tracks through the pitch smeared on his face. He leaned forward and with his silent bidding the inky streams pulled back slightly and spread apart, opening Link up even further and holding him there as his twin's raven cock pressed in with a single brutal thrust.

Link screamed all over again as the tendrils were replaced with cock. Despite being the same material and consistency of the shadows that had already been impaling him Link could tell it was the real thing from the way Dark Link's glowing eyes fluttered closed in bliss. Not that it mattered, along with the cock the first two tendrils were still pumping inside him, reaching far deeper places than any normal cock could. The combined girth of the three sent acidic tidal waves through him with every minute motion; even holding completely still was excruciating and Link didn't know how it was physically possible to endure it if they all tried to move inside him…

Though he was forced to learn as Dark Link wasted no time, picking up a ruthless rhythm, slamming into Link so hard he was tossed back and forth against the ground with only the tarry tendrils holding him in place. He felt his legs being lifted, hooked over the Shade's shoulders and down his back, slowing his pace just long enough to readjust before pounding into him again.

Link gave breathless little cries in time with the thrusts, if only as a way to distract himself in an effort to maintain his sanity. The Shade was strangely quiet and focused as he violated his twin; the shadows surrounding them both were absolutely silent as well, seeming to absorb noise and light like the velvet interior of an inescapable black hole.

Indeed, even the small freedom of Link's voice was intentionally cut off as yet more black tendrils wound around his neck, tightening in warning before sliding up over his chin to seep into his unwilling mouth once again. They followed the same procedure, percolating their way inside past his stubborn teeth and then thickening and solidifying from there forcing his mouth wide open.

They oozed down the tight confines of his throat, going far deeper than before until Link really _couldn't_ breathe. He bucked in panic, the impulse to breathe overriding any pain he inflicted on himself by struggling. But since it was a dream nothing changed, he couldn't faint when he was already unconscious, he couldn't die, just left to suffer on the sensation of suffocation without end. It didn't get any better as it began to thrust in and out of his throat to match the cock violating his ass.

Link scrunched his eyes shut as the pumping inside both his entrances increased in tempo and strength, hopelessly invaded from both ends as he was rocked back and forth on the ground. Sometimes the movement of the tendrils in his ass didn't quite sync up and he could feel the two of them individually sliding around but most of the time it felt like one huge thing fucking him. The distinct and all-encompassing thrust of the Shade's cock seemed to dictate their movement and so they just worked on pressing in deeper, twisting and writhing inside him like a living thing.

Link could feel himself fading. Despite being unable to pass out he was still capable of tuning out; the perceived oxygen deprivation and relentless, painful fucking made it easy. His eyes rolled back and he went limp, allowing them to take whatever they wanted from him and just get it over with.

Dark Link gurgled above him, his eerie alien laugh all the more apparent in the silence. He reached down and grabbed a fistful of Link's hair, jerking him up and forcing him to focus on his tormentor. Though the Shade's lips didn't move Link could hear his words enter his head and catch and cling like bloody jetsam.

_You think this will end? This is a dream; we can make it go on forever._

Link's blue eyes widened, gagging noncommittal on the length still dutifully pulsing in his throat as the understanding sank in. His twin grinned as he saw the realization spread across Link's face, dropping him back down and grabbing his ebony sword which materialized in the inky waters surrounding them.

Without warning he plunged the blade into Link's shoulder, slamming it down so hard it pierced through to the other side. Link jerked in agonized surprise, throat convulsing on the slimy tendril as his body tried to scream out the sensation, the unbelievably keen fire that was dripping volcanic pain down his entire arm, boiling up from the blade still running him through. Dark red rooster tails began to unfurl in the flow of black as Link writhed silently in agony. He couldn't _do_ anything, nothing but ride it out and try to keep hold of his sanity.

Dark Link laughed his strange laugh again and yanked the blade out before letting it crash back down into Link's abdomen. It sank into the soft flesh too easily and the Shade wasn't satisfied by the easy surrender. He pulled his sword out once again, stabbing Link's young body over and over, as if in a manic violence trance. He was hypnotized by the delicious way Link's body seized up around him each time the blade sank in, the pleasurable death throes sending the tendrils writhing deeper, sending his hips canting desperately against the dying body.

He plunged his sword in one last time staking Link to the ground and using the handle as an anchor, thrusting now with animalistic force. Link's flesh tore against the blade of the sword a little further with each jerk. One of the tendrils, it wasn't clear from which end it entered, found its way out through one of the wounds, writhing eagerly in the raw air encouraging the other tendrils to find their own exits.

The shadow tendrils surged forth, piercing through on their own when they couldn't find a sword wound to use, dancing victoriously when they emerged, slithering and twining against one another in serpentine ecstasy.

Dark Link couldn't stop himself; the intoxicating smell of so much blood combined with the vice-like pressure surrounding his cock sent him spiraling into oblivion. He shot his load with a frantic jerk, stilling as the pleasure was pulled out in pulses.

Link didn't move. The trauma was too great, even for the dream-state they were in. As his Shadow released his seed inside him, tendrils twisting riotously, Link felt something snap and he was pulled through that crack, away from all conscious or unconscious thought. Somehow he managed to sink to an even lower place in his mind, the lizard brain, escaping the pain and violation as well as he could.

Dark Link came down from his high, pulling out reluctantly as the tendrils soon followed him out, winding their way smoothly back through all the nooks and crannies of the riddled body.

The second the tendrils pulled free Link sank beneath the inky water, disappearing completely from sight. The Shade frowned at that, glancing around to see where his twin had gotten to. He focused, followed the trail of Link's life force and finally saw him deep under the water, a transparent bubble surrounding him. He was very far down, curled into a fetal position, his body completely free of injury but still obviously damaged as the more primitive sections of his psyche cordoned him off in a last ditch effort to protect him from his darker, primal brother.

Dark Link grinned again, shark-like as he materialized his Long-Shot from the dark ether. He couldn't get down there but that didn't mean he couldn't drag Link back up. After all, there were still so many things to teach him and many more hours before he would wake up completely.


	2. Bleed

Link staggered through the deathly maw of the Shadow Temple, tearing himself through as though fighting a great clinging web. He stumbled out with a pained gasp, the pinpoints of endless rain sluicing over his mangled and bloody body.

There was not a single inch that wasn't stained, in the smear of his own blood, the grime of the dungeon itself, and the insidious pitch of enemies he'd sliced through on his panicked clawing retreat. Corporeal shadows clung to his frame as well, making it impossible to tell where one darkness ended and another began; he was nothing but a smear of filth that had emerged with a haunted fog to his eyes. That, along with the flinch and cringe of his body, the overwhelming stench of fear and trauma, truly cataloged how just how deeply the Temple had hurt him.

Sheik didn't recognize him when he first emerged. Link moaned and writhed beneath the cleansing rain like a snared animal and there was nothing upright or heroic about him. Only the Master Sword, still held in his trembling grip, designated him as anything other than an unfortunate apparition released onto the world under Ganondorf's reign.

Sheik waited, patient as ever despite the urgency of the situation. There was something _off_ about the Hero of Time's appearance, even beyond the injuries, and Sheik didn't want to risk running into a trap. However Link just lie curled and trembling where he'd fallen and Sheik doubted it was due to the rain. Eventually it became obvious that nothing else was following Link out from the Shadow Temple and Sheik leapt from his hiding place, balancing catlike on the balls of his feet as he landed.

Dekunuts in hand, he stalked toward the shivering heap of limbs, clothes and flesh torn and tattered alike. Sheik was barely a foot away, approaching as if he were a wild animal when Link whined tight and high in his throat, a strained noise squeezed out of him involuntarily as though he were being choked. Link reared up and scrabbled back until he hit the solid and unforgiving wall of the temple itself; he gingerly lowered himself to the ground with a drawn out hiss, moving as though his joints were soldered in pain. Indeed a dark, bleeding path pebbled from his previous position to where he now huddled.

Sheik watched, momentarily stunned by the strange reaction. He didn't try to move closer, instead just spoke lowly, firmly but with utmost gentleness.

"Link…?"

The boy twitched, curled in tighter, drawing his legs up until he could hug them to his chest, head burrowed tightly between the hard pillow of his knees.

Sheik managed another half-step closer.

"Link," he said again, more strength in his voice.

This time the boy remained still, petrified as a bloody spot against the wall, if he didn't move maybe he wouldn't be seen.

Sheik took another step, leaned down until he hovered before Link's hidden face.

"Link, please look at me."

The closeness startled him badly and he jerked against his own legs with a silent sob. Sheik remained absolutely still and did not move to touch him; after a second Link slowly raised his head.

Twin flaming-red comets stared back at Sheik, unseeing. Link's eyes were shrouded in crimson, lit from within by some evil fire and he couldn't see past the malicious, red flames. Despite having escaped the horrors of the Shadow Temple Link was still trapped in an illusion, a bloody blindfold that altered his reality into a hellscape.

No wonder he wasn't reacting normally; Sheik had no idea how he must look to Link now, perhaps shrouded in the form of a Stalfos or maybe something more subtly sinister such as a ReDead leaning in for a soul draining embrace. Regardless of what it was that Link saw in him, the horror of the illusion was too real. Link moaned lowly as he stared back at Sheik, regarding him with absolute bone-dissolving terror.

Sheik only had a split second as Link tensed to strike. He leapt back as the length of metal sang through the air with all the righteous fury bequeathed to the Hero of Time. Link swiped a horizontal slash at him and while Sheik was fast enough to miss the brunt of the blade, the tip was still wickedly sharp and a glancing blow was all it took to slice a keen line across his chest, spilling forth blood down his torso to match his sigil.

It hurt, but it was simply a physical pain, there had been none of the Master Sword's evil-repelling magic behind the blow simply because there was no darkness in Sheik to banish. It was easy enough to ignore, especially for a highly trained warrior like Sheik, and he didn't even cry out as the metal tip sluiced over his flesh. Instead he timed his throw, waited the half second where Link twisted to the side from the momentum of his sword swing, and then loosed a handful of Dekunuts directly against his turned head. The hard-packed seeds exploded in a dazzle of concussive sound and light and Link shouted briefly before slumping to the side unconscious.

Sheik didn't move to catch him, tending his own wound was more important. Even though the cut was shallow it still ached and bled fiercely; he pressed his traveling cloak hard against the wound, ignoring the way it flared painfully under pressure. Fumbling with his other hand, that was already sticky with his own blood, Sheik managed to thumb open the cork top of his red potion and downed it in two burning gulps. He could feel it glowing brightly inside him, seeping through and sewing back damage in its wake. His chest suddenly began to throb, though this time it was a good ache, a healing pain, drawing the ragged edges back together from the inside. After a long enough moment Sheik pulled the cloak gingerly away and growled as the dried blood cracked and tugged. He poured the remaining dredges of the red potion in his palm and soothed the liquid over the wound, working to heal it from both exterior and interior means.

Sheik finally sat back with a groan. The wound would heal; it wasn't life threatening but looking over at Link's collapsed form he knew it was still going to make things very difficult. They had a long way to go as it was and Sheik had a bad feeling that he was going to have to carry the Hero for at least part of it.

The boy had begun to tremble again even in his crumpled heap and Sheik scooted closer to inspect him properly now that he was no longer bleeding profusely. The stench of fear and blood rolling off his limp body was nearly overwhelming though, after a moment, a sharper odor cut through the miasma. Even in the rain and mud it was impossible to miss the acrid smell of burning flesh. As Sheik cradled Link's heavy body, peeling the Master Sword gently from his death-throttle grip, greasy wisps of smoke rose from the revealed palms. The blistering smell came from Link's hands that were being seared open even beneath a layer of leather glove.

The Master Sword was beginning to reject Link; there was some internal evil within him that hadn't been there before. It was a miracle he'd been able to keep hold of the sword all the way out of the Shadow Temple, its purifying strength indiscriminately effecting everything, whether target or wielder.

Staring in shock, glancing between his burned hands, his crimson-framed eyes and his bloody battered body, Sheik slowly shook his head and muttered to the unconscious boy.

"What happened to you in there?"

* * *

_Back so soon?_

The words came as a sibilant hiss through the fog of Link's unconscious mind, not recognizable as a noise forming words but the meaning was conveyed somehow regardless.

Link's eyes widened and he immediately began to shiver involuntarily. It was too soon, too soon, he'd barely made it out of the Shadow Temple with illusions and shadows plaguing his every step only to be thrown back into the prison of his own mind. He'd barely survived the last time; he _couldn't_ go back, not so soon, not _ever_. The fear so fresh from the last session was still in the wings, ushered in immediately as Link was confronted with his tormentor. The panicked emotion fed into the doppelganger and he morphed effortlessly from the black ether.

Dark Link stood tall and imposing, breathing in deep and silent as if to savor the terror that was palpable on the air. He carried no weapon this time; he didn't have anything to prove, not with Link shaking in his boots, properly and thoroughly dominated. The obviousness of it soothed the Shade, made him more lax and taunting rather than attacking immediately as he did last time.

_Were the illusions not enough for you? Did you miss me so much that you knocked yourself out to see me again?_

Dark Link seemed to be finding confidence in his own non-voice. Being a silent creature of the shadows made him quiet by nature but seeing the way his unspoken words effected Link was incentive enough to speak up more.

He stalked closer and Link took a matching step back, lifting his hands as if to ward Dark Link off. Link continued to retreat, maintaining the distance between them as the Shade moved ever closer. Link seemed to already know the outcome, just delaying the inevitable - a painful lesson in losing control that he'd been forced to learn over and over again. And so he only moaned, sick and low in his throat, when his clothes and weapons evaporated into the dream ether without his permission. His own weakness made him stumble, tripping on nothing and tumbling to the ground. Link didn't even try to crawl away, just coiled tight in on himself where he landed.

The quality of the environment was different; it was coarse, things were scratched and rough rather than the silky, smoothness of a dream. Unconsciousness made things harder to visualize, more contrasted when focused upon. There was still just as little control and Link couldn't even look up to meet his reflection's gaze. Helpless and lying on his side, head swaying in mournful shock as Dark Link stared down with an unimpressed sneer.

The visible weakness stirred contrasting feelings in the Shade. On the one hand he was viciously proud that he could bring his creator down to this level with mere dream torture; however it also disappointed and disturbed him. He was cut from the same bolt; if Link could so easily break under mental and sexual torture it meant he too had little in the way of defense.

The fragility bothered him and he kicked Link hard in the ribs to punish him for showing it. Link gave a harsh bark of pain as he skidded across the ground, stirring up static images and textures in his wake. Despite the rough quality of their new milieu, the blood was still as vivid as it had been in the dream. It made Dark Link smile, though the motion was barely discernible on his purely black face.

He swooped down, pinning Link prostrate before he had a chance to get his feet back under him. The contact made Link cry out, as if his mere touch was painful, and it wrung another full-body tremor from him. The trembles revved in intensity as he felt his brother's arousal slot menacingly against the small of his back.

Dark Link took the opportunity to snake his arm around Link's neck, wrestling him into an unnecessarily violent headlock, leaning back to cut off his air as his entire front was lifted into the air. Link wheezed, hands scrabbling at the hard forearm braced unforgiving across his windpipe.

Dark Link frowned when he noticed the tendrils of shadow no longer flared and vined along the edges of his control. Apparently he'd lost the ability after leaving the Shadow Temple. And though he was weaker than before, actually mirroring Link's strength itself, the damage was already done. Link barely struggled beneath his suffocating grip; he couldn't gather his strength or his will, all courage sapped away by fear. He'd been too well conditioned in their last session when his only way to avoid a worse agony was to submit without struggle to the pain he was already suffering through. Without the slimy shadow tendrils it would have been a much fairer fight this time, but it was far too late for that.

Link's psyche had already cracked and Dark Link found himself not caring about the lost advantage. It just meant he could get all the more personal, all the more _hands on_.

He shifted his grip and wrung his hands around the back of Link's neck, letting him fall back to the ground and pinning him there as he slowly began to gyrate against the warm body. Link gasped as air rushed into his lungs only to be wheezed back out again as he hissed in fearful disgust.

He could clearly feel his reflection's heated length slide heavy and foreboding against his tender, soft places. It made him whine and whimper, made him writhe his hips in a frantic effort to get away from the sick feeling. The bucking only seemed to encourage the Shade as his pace picked up. Dark Link's ebony clothes vanished and it was abruptly skin on skin, shadow on shadow.

Still pinning Link's neck with one hand, the bruising weight of gravity on his side, Dark Link shifted back, sliding almost luxuriously between the soft cleft of Link's ass. He forced one hand under Link's hip and hoisted him up to fit tightly, more intimately, against his cock. Link gave a piteous moan, the end of it halting into a sob. He knew what was coming next, he knew the abrasive, invasive tendrils would soon spear inside him, flay and splay him until he was reamed open. He trembled, holding himself taut as he waited for the inevitable pain to shear through him. But it never came.

Dark Link seemed content to hold him down in submission and get his kicks that way, swiveling with increasing intensity over Link's yielding hips. And it was still uncomfortable, awkward, and horribly non-consensual but Link dared to kindle hope that it was all that his dark twin would do. He could handle this, even if it still made his skin crawl and made him feel small and helpless; at least he wasn't dying over and over again in an inescapable dream cycle, at least the cock limited itself to staining the outside of his body rather than tearing through him. Link let himself surrender to it, relaxing just a fraction to give the Shade a better hand hold to finish.

Of course Dark Link felt it and grinned. He'd been waiting for that tiny surrender and now that he had it he left off Link's neck and reached down to spread Link's cheeks and bare his hole. The exposure set everything loose again and Link's determination crumbled with a whimper.

Dark Link prodded him, teasing the circle of muscle with almost dainty caresses. The awakening had reset everything and none of the gruesome injuries from before were present. They had been washed away like a bad dream and it made the Shade's tentative explorations shocking all over again; his entrance was tight and virginal and all his experience with that area had already been hellishly negative thus far. Dark Link barely had to touch him before Link was being set off in a scrabbling, screaming panic attack.

It didn't matter; Dark Link just crushed his neck to cut his cries short and roughly pressed two fingers in. There were no oozing shadows this time, it was dry and tight and even fingers were horribly abrasive, dragging and pulling at the tender skin as they pushed unmercifully forward.

The only respite was the slower pace this time around, Dark Link seemed to be enjoying himself and savoring the submission. Last time Link had been swept up so quickly by it all, the horror of the entire situation blacking out the acute details, each layer of agony stacked atop one another until he could not distinguish where one started and another stopped. He couldn't tell the torture apart when they melded together into a boiling stew of excruciation.

This was quieter, gentler and calm enough that Link could feel everything; each individual finger, when they flared and curled; the tension of his twin's grip wrenching him back, his muscles quivering painfully on the edge of a cramp. The lesser degree of the pain overall clarified and highlighted each individual injustice. And so even though the dry finger fucking was lower on the absolute scale of suffering, it didn't make it any less of a torture. Now Link could feel the details and exactly what was being taken from him with every twitch and thrust. The scorching hands on his hips, the solid mass of Dark Link's body holding him down, the gurgling, hissing laughter against his neck, the teeth that dipped almost casually against his jugular, clamping down hard and making his head spin as his pulse thundered. Link couldn't ignore the heated head of the erection pressed to the back of his thigh, no escape from how they both knew it would end.

Eventually the slow degradation ran its course and Dark Link removed his fingers, spread Link's ass further open with both hands. The boy was shaking and crying by this point, reduced to a drooling pile of misery and he moaned as Dark Link pressed the dry head of his cock against the barely prepared entrance. Link felt it, jerked against it as a sob wracked his frame.

 _Are you really so eager?_ Dark Link taunted, barely putting pressure against it, not nearly enough to breach but enough that Link knew it was there, knew there was no hope in escaping this.

"Please, not again," Link moaned, ragged on the edge of another sob.

It was the first time Link had spoken, in either this round or the previous. He hadn't the time to say anything before the Megaton Hammer had flattened his lungs last time. The fact that he chose _now_ of all times to open his mouth to beg was endearing. Not enough to save him of course, it just made the moment string out and hang between them like a pearl on a string, weighted and precious and perfect for tainting.

 _Please?_ The Shade parroted back, inflection turning inward and upward, twisting in on itself until the meaning turned evil. _I didn't realize you were so needy._

And with that he grabbed Link's hair and slammed him face first into the ground which turned hard for just this purpose. He lifted him again, stunned and bleeding, just to slam him down again and again and a final time, leaving the ground a splotched red. The darkness of his unconscious mind rang and echoed around each consecutive blow and everything dimmed in response as if Link were a guttering candle.

Dark Link laughed again, enjoying the violence after such sentimentalism made him feel ill. He dropped Link to the ground and resumed his position against now-pliant hips; he pushed in, hesitating only a second as he adjusted, and then slammed the rest of the way forward.

Link barely reacted, still reeling from the blows to his head, but it wasn't nearly enough to block it out completely. The cock rent him wide, dry and unprepared, and he could feel himself tear on the violent penetration. The abrupt pain was so sharp and intense it made a spike of nausea shoot though his core. At least with the tendril before they had eased into it, slicking and stretching him over time. This was as sudden as a miniature bolt of lightening, and just as painful. His body tried instinctively to get away even though he couldn't see through the blood in his eyes, couldn't coordinate his limbs through the aching dizziness that pulsed in time with his heartbeat; could barely breathe through the nausea that vibrated in his middle.

Dark Link snapped his hips forward again, burying himself to the hilt, shuddering at the tight heat, the trembling he could feel even more intimately from the unwilling grip encasing his cock. It was amazing how different it felt this time, he could feel Link far more without the tendrils coating him, tighter and hotter and all his his his… He pulled out slowly, watching the way the bloodied skin stretched over his retreat before whipping forward so hard that Link's face rammed into the ground.

Link still hadn't recovered from the skull-cracking blows to his head and the rhythmic pounding certainly wasn't helping. He couldn't contain his short, pained gasps as Dark rammed into him, jerking him against the ground, body strung out between conflicting shades of pain and consciousness, uncertain which should take priority. If he weren't already unconscious, Link would have willed himself to pass out right then. But again, he was caught in the prison of his own mind, a personal demon set to make every moment unbearable, with intimate knowledge of every fear and full access to every nightmare. It wasn't all that unexpected when Dark Link leaned over his arched body, panting into his ear in between each brutal thrust.

_You love this, love being on your knees, being dominated._

The mirror paused, rippled with a deep malicious laugh as he casually dipped into Link's memories and selected a precious image.

_What would the Princess think if she saw you like this?_

Link shuddered and tried to make himself as small as possible, shame overwhelming even the pain for a moment. The response was immediate, visceral, and Dark Link relished the humiliation that he could feel rolling off his twin. It was like brushing across a tender exposed nerve and he couldn't leave it alone, he had to bite and bloody it in his teeth.

_Do you think she would cry or laugh? Her hero on all fours, whimpering like a dog, maybe she would want to join in, shove her filthy cunt in your mouth and use you in the only way you're good for._

Link was breaking, shaking himself to pieces and it was like a drug to Dark Link, he couldn't get enough of it. He kept talking, thrusts going soft and slow so Link would only be able to concentrate on the haunting words.

_Maybe we could rape her in your place. We could do it together, pin her between us and rip her open, or better yet, I could just force you to do it yourself. I could make you like it too, make you want to take her over and over until she bleeds and even then you wouldn't stop._

Link was actually struggling now, growling and pushing up from the ground instead of lying limp. Invoking the princess into this nightmare provided desperation enough to spark some courage through him - a bright flare of strength and light and he was able to rise up and swing a sharp elbow back at his tormentor. Dark Link caught it easily, though he was startled by the sudden power behind the blow. He yanked the offending limb up and up until it wrenched painfully, creaking in place as the tendons stretched beyond their limit and Link _screamed_.

The light sputtered out completely as Link's shoulder dislocated with a wet, scraping pop. Still Dark Link held it hostage, using the nerveless limb as a handle as he began to rape his twin in earnest.

_I see that it bothers you to think of fucking anyone but me. Don't worry, I won't ever leave you. Even when I make you kill that filthy whore of a princess I will still be here to pick up your pieces. You're mine Link and I'm never going away._

The words sank in, each one punctuated with a violent thrust, and for Link it was hard to distinguish which hurt worse.

* * *

Sheik paid the outrageous fee at the Kakariko Village inn just to get them out of the rain; he still wasn't feeling comfortable with the open well and the entrance to the Shadow Temple so near. Not to mention the unsavory villagers who had turned desperate and ill-willed in the waking evil of the world. Ganondorf's atmosphere brought out the worst in people, even normal humans, and Sheik knew he wouldn't sleep well until they were far from here.

But they couldn't travel with Link still unconscious and bloody. Keeping his dagger within reach, Sheik began to the slow process of cleaning and healing the Hero of Time. He slowly stripped him and bathed each revealed hurt in the healing red elixir. As more skin was on display and the pile of filthy clothes grew larger, Sheik saw Link wasn't as badly wounded as he'd originally thought. Most of the blood was from enemies, and while he had a few scrapes and cuts and bruises, there was nothing that would have forced a retreat from the Hero, nothing that could account for the shell-shocked fog in his eyes. Frankly his burnt palms were the worst of it and those were wrapped in clean bandages soaked in red potion to help speed up the healing.

Sheik glanced to the corner where the Master Sword itself was propped, swaddled in the now-bloody traveling cloak. Something must have happened inside, something latched on and possessed Link, making the Master Sword reject him. If there was any Temple capable of injecting evil into a person it would definitely be the Shadow Temple. But it couldn't be that simple, Link was supposed to be more resilient to such evils, impervious even, or the Master Sword would not have chosen him. There was some variable Sheik wasn't seeing and he could only hope that Link would be able to talk when he eventually woke.

Sheik sighed, shook his head and turned back to his patient, wiping away a fresh coat of sweat. It smelled sour and Link was burning to the touch. They wouldn't be able to move until the fever broke. Sheik grabbed the blanket to help him sweat it out, but paused as he drew it up over his knees. Sheik had laid a cloth over Link's groin to spare him some dignity even if he wasn't conscious to appreciate it. Now that it was clear that the boy wasn't in mortal danger Sheik began to take in his body beyond the injuries.

His hibernation had treated him well, growing up into a strong lean body, toned with wolfish muscles and clean lines. The constant sword swinging defined him further and Sheik's eyes were slowly drawn up his body, almost without his notice or permission. He traced Link with his gaze, lingering on his chest before being drawn inexorably, inevitable down the center of his body to where the cloth innocently lie, a tell-tale swell beneath it only revealing so much.

Sheik swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and he felt himself stirring. He tried to tamp down on the chain reaction but wasn't too effective with the mental evasion. He licked his lips, feeling like a jackal and an imp for even thinking it, and glanced furtively up to Link's face.

He was still out cold, face pinched tight with pain, the fever sheen back and flushed across his visage. It was more than enough, the guilt of entertaining such notions with a sick and injured boy snapped Sheik out of it.

With a sigh he picked up the abandoned blanket, prepared to cover him up and be done with it when Link twitched, shifted with a barely audible groan and hiked one leg up. The movement caused the cloth to slip into the crease of his thighs and suddenly Sheik was getting an unconscious peepshow. He dropped the blanket, backed up and held his breath for fear of doing something he would regret.

Link was beautiful, this part of him no less so, and Sheik felt his own length thicken at the sight of Link's manhood laid limp and heavy against the inside of his thigh, draped enticingly and perfectly within view. A light trail of blond fluff topped it all off.

Sheik breathed hard, straining in his pants, and only after a moment's hesitation he finally let the heel of his palm drag heavily over the heated swell of his own erection, letting out a quiet, shaking gasp as he finally indulged. He rubbed hard and slow, staring at Link's cock all the while. He imagined how it would feel if it was hard and hot, how it would fit in his hand, slip into his mouth, grind and rub against his own cock.

He didn't dare look at Link's sleeping face, the guilt and weakness he felt even going this far threatened to choke him.

Soon rubbing through his pants wasn't enough and Sheik quickly unwrapped the material around his waist and his cock sprang out wet and erect. He grabbed on, never once taking his eyes off the sight between Link's legs. Sheik quickly pumped, wasting no time with how sudden and fiercely it started. He leaned against the wall, spreading his legs and settling into a comfortable stance. The room was so small he lost no distance and it soon felt hot and stuffy from both Link's fever furnace and from Sheik's stifled pounding.

He wrapped his fingers tighter, forming a ring with his thumb and middle and first fingers, pretending they were some one else's hands and continued to beat himself. Hips twitching in time with his hand, his other leaping up to squash against his mouth and stifle any noises. Sheik didn't trust himself and the last thing he needed was for Link to wake up in the middle of it.

Link skipped puberty entirely when he was put under to be the Hero of Time and Sheik wasn't sure that the innocent boy even knew what sex was, or what it was like to be lusted after, how it felt to fall in love. And though he'd always felt this way about Link, ever since he was summoned from the Spirit Realm to protect Princess Zelda by becoming her, a guardian spirit taking her body and transmuting it to his own, he always knew it was only temporary. He wasn't permanent for this world. Once Hyrule was saved and the Princess was safe he'd fade back into the nebulous non-existence of the Spirit Realm.

Link was fated for more than that and Sheik didn't want to get in the way.

And so Sheik stifled his breath and killed his voice as his release pulsed out into the cup of his hand. It was so fast, he would have felt embarrassed if he'd had a conscious audience, but the intensity of it was slow to fade and he jerked his hips as his essence spilled forth.

Finally he slumped in completion, hand held out awkwardly still cupping his seed. Sheik wiped himself off on the bed sheets, cheap old things probably had worse stains on them, and with trembling hands he dragged the blanket up to cover Link. Sheik tucked it neatly under his chin and wiped his brow one last time before stepping out to clean his clothes and try to find some food for them both.

He resolutely refused to think about what had just happened and vowed to himself that Link would never know. He was better off discovering that for himself, with someone he could love for a lifetime rather than a brief fling with a guardian spirit in a hijacked body.

* * *

Link woke slowly, hindered from reality by the mirror holding him down, trying to tie him to the torturous dredges of their shared unconsciousness. It took several minutes for the room to take form, several more for the blood to stop rolling from the walls and even after waking the phantom pain never stopped barbing vicious little thrusts between his legs. Even when it became clear that Link was finally free from his evil side, if for the moment, he still wasn't sure he was truly awake; the room smelled of sweat, blood and most traumatic of all, sex.

Link's eye widened, watered, and he bit his lip to stifle the whimper wavering in his throat. He curled up on his side, gripping and bunching up the blanket until it hid his face before letting his tears fall. He trembled with silent sobs, trying his hardest to stop himself from erupting but only tasted blood in his mouth for his efforts. He shoved the flimsy blanket in his mouth, bit and tore it trying to silence himself but it only made the stench of rape rub closer to his face. He shuddered again and swayed upright with a cringe.

Everything hurt, his head, limbs, the ribs his reflection had broken, the shoulder he'd dislocated, the furious throbbing on the side of his neck where a chunk had been torn out, but most of all, the sharp pounding ache between his legs would not fade no matter how much Link tried to wake himself up. He stood shakily, legs trembling with uncertainty, and a fresh sob bubbled up when he noticed he was completely naked.

Something rolled down his leg, hit the floor and Link stumbled back in surprise, staring uncomprehending at the dark red splatter. He thought he was awake, thought he was free despite the pain, but when he looked over at the bed he'd just left the entire surface was stained that same deep red, the blankets were sopping with his blood and Link backpedaled with a gasp until he hit the wall.

The color was alive, twisting up like a bloody version of the shadow tendrils and Link let out a wail as the thin crimson stream reached out to him.

He fled to the door, jerking on the handle despite how it burned his palms. It didn't budge.

The red oozed closer and Link tore across the room in a blind panic. He leapt at the only exit he could see and the glass shattered in a symphony of sharp edges against his full body tackle. He fell into the darkness of the night and it felt like he was falling into his reflection's embrace.

He didn't stop screaming until he hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh drama! What's real? What's not real? Why did Sheik have to jack off in the room and trigger poor traumatized Link?
> 
> Speaking of Sheik – I know there is a lot of fandom debate around whether he is Zelda in disguise, a transformed version, or some completely different persona. Honestly I like all iterations of this for various reasons but my head cannon typically veers into the FTM trans route simply because I love tough openly trans characters and there are so few of them that aren't simply comedic fodder. However for this story I wanted to play with the idea that both Link and Sheik are either possessed or the possessors under different circumstances. Hence the guardian spirit shtick which is just as legitimate as any other fan theory.


	3. Tear Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this kinda got out of hand I must say… This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated and now the story is stretching out into another chapter. Maybe another one after that, I’m not sure. I had a solid ending but it seems to be writing itself now so I’m just gonna go with it. Sorry for the long wait and I hope y’all enjoy!

When Navi’s warm gentle urging penetrated his dark ebbing stupor, Link at first tried not to respond. It was so much easier to remain where he was, on the far side of the suffering he’d undergone. For the first time in a long time, Link felt no pain. There was only darkness, but not the macabre, torture-filled milieu of his shadow, no it was more like the final sweet surrender into a calm endless night. The warm enveloping blanket drawn up over his life, the darkness of his unknown mother’s womb whom he could never remember, calling him back to the other side of existence. It was the final darkness of death and a welcome ally and friend. He could float there, unfeeling, uncaring for the rest of eternity. There was no pain, no fear, no laughing doppelganger, only the cessation of sensation so complete he couldn't even feel where he ended and the nurturing emptiness began.

Let someone else be the hero for once.

Beyond his fractured will, a soft glowing color began to seep in, interrupting the hard-won stillness. It was warm, tugging, insistent and Link felt himself being buoyed up by the light. A pink clement glow pulsing encouragingly through him, coaxing his lungs back into motion and pulling his scattered pieces back into a whole individual. Pure, radiant innocence flowed like life-giving water through him and he batted weakly against the line tugging him back to the surface. He was tired and reluctant to retrace his steps back.

But the light wouldn't be denied and slowly his senses filed into place one after another until the flutter of membranous wings could be heard stuttering to a halt. The world came into focus around him, slowly sharpening into crisp dark edges and cold prickling rain. He was on his back, naked and sprawled in the mud staring up into the stormy grudging night sky. He could see the shattered window of the building looming over him, a guttering candle still barely illuminating the jagged maw of glass he’d leapt through. He vaguely remembered jumping, couldn’t grasp _why_ exactly, and the effort made his head hurt and his stomach clench so he let the thought drift away.

He felt a featherweight fall softly on his bare chest, like a mote of still-warm ash. With slow, deliberate intention he reached up out of the sucking muck and plucked it up to examine. A grey shrunken fairy was pinched between his muddy fingers. He stared unblinking, unbelieving for a second, mind reeling back for a mental tally of his inventory before one gossamer wing broke off and the tiny creature fell from his grasp. The world tilted under him and it was a long horrified moment as a kick of shock worked through him and he held on, held on, held on for as long as possible before the finality of the truth couldn’t be denied; he didn’t _have_ any other fairies in his bottles, that there was only one fairy around who it might be.

It was Navi, his faithful friend and ally. The only one who had followed him into the darkness and helped guide him back out. His first chance at being accepted was thanks to her, his first chance at leaving the forest was behind her glowing bobbing assurances. Navi had sacrificed herself to save him.

The realization sent him spiraling back to his true age, when he was tauntingly known as the Boy Without a Fairy and his teeth chattered from the aching well of grief that he felt himself sinking into. She’d been with him through everything, helping him, keeping him company, acting as his communication between friends and allies strung out across the land. Even before picking up the Master Sword, even before becoming the Hero of Time she’d been there, enduring so much with him. And she had given up her own precious life for no reason, just to drag him back to this hell he thought he’d finally escaped.

He shivered, from the cold, the sadness and the thought of Dark Link as his mind so helpfully remembered everything from before. Link rolled over, retched on nothing and gaped in open-mouthed anguish at the thought of Dark Link waiting just beneath the sleeve of his conscious mind. He couldn’t feel him at the moment, neither his lurking presence nor the injuries he’d collected fighting and tearing himself out of the Shadow Temple. He was empty, scraped out and raw but still whole and alive. It made way for the guilty remorse now welling into every cell and prickling his eyes. Navi's pure spirit pushed the Shade back into hiding and instead he was consumed by bone-deep grief.

The sky cracked open with a jagged flash of lightning, illuminating the village for a moment before the peal of deafening thunder followed closely. As if on cue, the storm intensified, lashing down on him and wearily he sat up to hobble out of the rain. He had no time to mourn, no time to feel the loss, not with the storm and the sickening paranoia of what still inevitable awaited him overtaking everything for a moment. He pushed it all down and focused on the tiny corpse cradled in his hands.

Because of the late hour and the summer storm no one was outside to see his nakedness, to see the mud and slime clinging to his body, no one saw him cringe and hunch to leak a few frustrated and aching tears. He leaned against the building to steady himself and wrapped his arms feebly around his chest trying to keep warm. Just as he began to gingerly mount the stairs, he heard a splash behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see the dark outline of Sheik straightening up from a landing. He was lean, graceful, with the potent strength of a great cat. Link wasn’t surprised to see him, but was startled to realize he’d jumped from the same window where Link had met his premature demise. The guardian turned and stared hard at Link, eyes barely visible through the sheets of rain. The water made the wrappings cling more closely and Link wondered, even with the turmoil seething inside him, once again what Sheik looked like under the mask.

He walked slowly toward Link.

“When I heard the crash and saw the window, I thought you were dead.”

Link offered a watery smile that he didn’t feel, extending his cupped hands to offer a glimpse of his crumpled, self-sacrificing partner.

“I was,” Link said simply. The words conveying more than anything else he could have said.

Sheik saw the fairy, saw the pain coalescing like hardened jewels in Link’s swimming eyes and nodded in understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” he offered, feeling lame for the paltry words.

Link drew his hands back and said nothing.

“Come, let’s get you indoors.”

Link allowed himself to be led, feeling more like the orphan he was than he had in a long time. Grateful for Sheik’s steady guidance which allowed him to sink further into his hollowed out mourning.

They made it inside the darkened parlor, a warm blanket draped over Link before they climbed the creaking stairs. They made it all the way to his door before Link said a word. He balked when the handle was drawn down, the heavy wood pushed inside, the clinging shadows inside the small space making something in him go rigid and cold.

Sheik strode in, shuttered the wet jagged window and latched them tightly. It would keep the wind and rain out at least. He looked back at the bed, still relatively dry against the far wall and he felt the covers to make sure.

“I can’t go in there,” Link stated softly, still standing bundled up in the hall.

Sheik paused, looked curiously, warily back at the boy whose frame had begun to visibly tremble. He frowned but walked back out of the haunted room. Link swore, for a second, there was a flash of guilt that didn’t makes sense flitting across Sheik’s eyes but he quickly wrote it off as mangled nerves and the difficulty of interpreting emotion through layers of wet cloth.

Sheik pulled the door closed again, “You can sleep in my room then.”

Link trudged after him, grateful that the man didn’t question him. He didn’t know how to explain the cracks in the wall that had bled, the pile of entrails splattered across the uneven floor, the living twisting red shadows reaching for him, holding him down, forcing their way into him even through his waking eyes.

Sheik held the door to his room open and Link stepped in, closing the door behind them both with a soft click. The noise made something leap up inside him, made the walls breathe and tilt toward him, pressing him flat, smothering him. His pulse spiked with adrenaline and his stomach dropped in fear, turned his breathing shallow and his mind raced back and forth from one bad ending to another. His heart skittered like a frightened colt, eyes wide as his legs locked up. He turned and saw Sheik standing between him and the door and an irrational panic overtook him. His shoulders rose and ached with tension and he didn’t know why. Didn’t know why the closeness felt like being held down even though nothing was touching him, why suddenly Sheik’s build became huge, shadowy and even as his mind reeled into the panicked state of a trapped animal that howled _danger, danger, danger_ , Link wondered why he was projecting it onto his guide and ally.

Sheik was a friend and would never hurt him. So why did the male lines of his tight body seem to fill every corner of the room, why did Link feel like he was being pressed into the floor by his mere presence in such a tiny, claustrophobic space?

Sheik stepped forward, concern tightening his eyes and Link could only gape piscine-like at his direct approach. He placed a single hand on his shoulder and the trance was broken as pain and terror shot down from the contact, wracking through his whole body and dropping him down to a curl rocking on the balls of his feet, hugging his knees tightly as his chest heaved rapidly without absorbing any air. Link heard a high pitched whine emitting involuntarily from his throat, bit his own arm trying to stifle it, which only ended in him screaming through the flesh. He simply toppled over when Sheik touched him again, gripping him, trying to see what was wrong.

From his fetal position on the floor, head shoved as close to the rough planks as he could get and his muscles cramping and spasming, black vertigo swimming through his head as his vision went blotchy, he managed to scrape out three words through the internal storm.

“Don’t… Touch… Me…” he gasped and felt a lightheaded surprise when his plea was immediately followed. The hands pulled swiftly away as if he were hot to the touch and Sheik backed up against the wall to give him space. Link almost didn’t believe it happened, after so many direct, intentional and malicious violations of boundaries before he was surprised when they actually were respected. He still couldn’t breathe though, still couldn’t stop the hammering in his chest that felt like it might explode, felt like he might die all over again which sent his racing mind spiraling into another tangent of panic and guilt as he thought of Navi, her sacrifice, how it would be for nothing if he hyperventilated on the floor.

Sheik spoke softly, kindly, and Link tried hard to hear the words, make meaning of the garbled phonics rolling over him.

“Link, I’m so sorry, you’re safe here, you’re in Kakariko Village with your friend. I’m not going to hurt you, no one is here to hurt you. You’re safe so please, tell me what you need. What can I do?”

“The… door…” Link managed to croak out and immediately it was pulled open, drawing in fresh cool air from the hallway drafting away the nausea and lightening the cloudy fear fizzling over his brain. It was enough to loosen his tight muscles and Link pulled himself out of the claustrophobic room and into the larger hallway, the many windows and escape routes it offered. He sat in the doorway, still clutching himself tightly but at least the air wasn’t so thin and hot. At least he could focus on the far wall down over the stairwell and the length of space comforted him. Sheik stayed rooted in the room, watching carefully and not moving as Link’s breath slowly evened out and the tension melted enough that he could finally take a heaving shuddering sigh. All the exertion suddenly transformed to weariness and his limbs fell exhausted to his sides.

“Link… Are you alright?”

Pause. Another huge breath. 

“I think so… I want to go outside.”

“Can I help you?”

Link tilted a single eye over, ran it down and up Sheik before taking a deep steadying breath and nodding. Sheik clasped his hand, pulled him up and together they hobbled down and outside. The opening of the well yawned up at them and Link couldn’t help but think of what lay beyond. They were still too close.

Sheik had apparently read his mind, he followed Link down moments later with their packs, a fresh tunic for Link and the Master Sword still wrapped in a cloth. Link took it without a word, leaving it swaddled up.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sheik said simply. After Link woodenly slipped his tunic on they marched out into the lashing storm, only a single red rupee on the inn counter to indicate their late departure.

* * *

The storm broke and blew itself out just as dawn crept over the horizon and a bright hopeful morning greeted them, still glistening from the rain. Sheik and Link walked slowly. Though he’d been revived and completely healed by his fairy he still walked like he was injured, held his arms close, head drawn down in rueful contemplation, watching the placement of each careful foot. It was like he was holding himself together and Sheik knew it was more than just Navi.

It took much longer than Sheik was ready for and he was relieved when they saw Epona grazing placidly near the edge of a stream. She raised her head, ears pricking forward as a strand of grass wound up into her slowly chewing mouth.  

Link suddenly had a small bounce in his step and Epona moved closer, nickering with low huffs and for a moment both were unafraid. She pushed her nose into Link’s waiting hand and heaved a huge sigh, the flare of her nostrils buzzing from the exhale. Link stroked her long face, leaned in for his forehead to rest against hers and closed his eyes. He breathed in her warm, earthy animal smell and his arms encircled her head lightly, nearly hugging her face as he began to shake with silent sobs.

Sheik knew no one but Link could hold Epona’s head immobile like that and she calmly let him, standing patient as he pulled her mane and rubbed his eyes into her forelock and stroked her more to comfort himself than anything. Sheik once again reminded himself that Link was still just a boy. Of course he would cry and be hurt by his friend dying. Once again proof he was never really a Kokiri, never meant to have a peaceful existence. Not with a body-snatching prophecy to fulfill.

Epona was still standing calm as an old circus pony when Link sniffed and finally pulled back. He glanced back at Sheik, sniffed again and straightened up, trying to collect himself. Sheik wished he wouldn’t, he didn’t need to push himself on his account. He understood his situation better than anyone possibly could.

Still, he was grateful for the mare. It meant they could pick up the pace; they had a long way to go to reach the Spirit Temple.

* * *

Link slouched down next to the fire, Sheik was spreading out the coals to extinguish the flames as night drew in thick around them.

“I can take the first watch,” Sheik said and Link tensed and looked up; Sheik read fear there and it startled him.

“Please, let me go first, I don’t think I can sleep right now.”

Sheik paused, ready to bring up the fact that he’d barely slept the night before, and before that he’d still been in the Temple… But he relented and nodded, not wanting to unwittingly cause another panic attack.

Link stood and went out to where Epona was grazing, casting a glance around the camp before patting her short coat. She flicked her tail in recognition but didn’t raise her head from ripping grass out by the roots. They’d gone many miles that day and were camped out in the open expanse of Hyrule Field.

Sheik watched a moment more before curling into a ball, settling in next to the dying embers of the fire with his travel cloak, well practiced at sleeping half sitting up. They’d agreed to head toward the Spirit Temple; there was a Great Fairy there that Sheik hoped would be able to solve the riddle of Link’s… predicament. And if he felt up to it, tackle that dungeon instead of the the ill-fated Shadow Temple. It had been a good plan when Sheik came up with it in the calm, sane quiet of his room at the inn but after Link’s swan dive into a premature demise, the loss of his fairy, and the twitchy hair-trigger that set him off in his room, Sheik was reevaluating the feasibility of the plan.

How was Link going to crawl into a dungeon, any dungeon, if he couldn’t even handle a small room?

He’d tried to ask over their trek here but Link clammed up and sat ramrod in the saddle when the word Shadow Temple left his lips. He still had no idea what the Hero had encountered in its dank bowels, what was still obviously haunting him. He hoped at least the Great Fairy would have more luck. Maybe she could simply heal him outright. He held onto that hope as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Sheik awoke with a start, immediately he could tell it was late, too late, from when he and Link agreed to switch. He bolted up thinking perhaps Link had been attacked, but how could he have been without Sheik hearing it? He jumped up but immediately found Link, standing close by and his eyes slid guiltily over to meet Sheik’s fierce gaze.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

Link kicked at the dirt. Dropped his eyes.

“I’m not tired, I thought you’d appreciate the extra time.”

Sheik shook his head slowly.

“You’re exhausted. I know you were completely restored before,” Sheik immediately regretted bringing it up, hated the way Link’s brows pulled together in tight grieving lines, “but you still are drained. You need to rest. _Proper_ rest. I wouldn’t have accompanied you if I thought you could make it there without my help.” Link looked stung but there was an underlying wariness that just didn’t fit. Plus the exhaustion rimmed and smudged like bruises under his eyes.

“I’ll try…” Link said glumly, still looking down.

As Sheik stood watch, he could see the glimmer of Link’s eyes reflecting the coals of the fire for many hours. He wasn’t even pretending to try, instead fighting to stay awake. Lids drooping only to snap back up, head tilting back and forth like a drunken marionette. It went on like that for a long time until he finally succumbed and slumped forward as pre-dawn grey tiptoed over the horizon. Sheik watched as his breathing evened out and his limbs finally loosened.

Sheik resolved that he needed rest more than he’d thought. They wouldn’t leave until Link woke up on his own, even if it was late into the morning, a later start than he’d like, but it didn’t matter if Link was too exhausted to ride.

* * *

When Link felt the black dream fold up over him and saw his shadow twin piece together and fill in with heavy-handed chiaroscuro strokes, this time he ran. Turned and sprinted before the terror had time to paralyze and liquefy him, using it as fuel when it finally caught up to his frantic pounding legs and pumping lungs. He was running hard, it seemed like forever, and there was no sound except his own echoing footsteps. He risked a look behind him and nearly screamed as a new surge of terror careened through him.

Dark Link was chasing him, not even ten paces back, matching him footfall for footfall, all of it completely silent. Link used the sudden second spike of fear to surge through his legs, jolting him forward as fear licked hot on his heels. He craned his head back again to see if he’d gained any distance and turned just in time to see the outline of a cocked elbow and gleaming black bow right as the shade loosed an arrow.

He heard it whistle through the air and it hit before Link could move, landing solidly in his arm, sinking deep and finally lodging in his shoulder blade. It was so sudden, the pain snaked up like a hot wire through his arm and shoulder and broke his stride. He stumbled and fell, a guttural explosion of sound ripped from his stomach as he hit the ground and the angle was just right to snap the arrow against himself. When he finally rolled to a stop only a cracked and splintery bloody half protruded.

Link wheezed and rolled back and forth, hand hovering over the fresh wound, unable to touch for how the pain radiated through his whole body, coiled his stomach up and nearly blinded him. He wanted to pull it out, but when he touched it the pain crescendoed in a brilliant searing flare and he could do nothing but writhe around it. Blood cut three thin streams down his arm, pooling against his armpit. He felt sticky and sick.

Dark Link was standing over him, watching, smirking. His crimson eyes spotlights drawn toward the blood and the contorted pinching on Link’s face.

_That’s what you get for running. You’re lucky too, I was aiming for your chest._

Dark Link lifted his leg back and kicked the boy in his side, watching as Link curled around the blow like a tender fern frond. Satisfied that he wasn’t able to run again and with the fight draining out faster than the blood, the evil impulse knelt over him and shoved him onto his back. The arrow splintered inside him from the rough movement and Link blinked rapidly to clear the woolly black dots swarming his vision. Dark Link was pawing eagerly at his tunic, unclasping his belt and brusquely pulling it up.

“No!” Link shouted, the one word he was able to get out through the line of fire. He tried with one arm to keep his tunic down, feebly covering himself while holding his injured arm rigid. His twin laughed and slapped him. It’s wasn’t even that hard but Link still was stunned and he didn’t react again until the shade roughly gripped his arm, pressing down on the bloody stump of wood and rotated the arm up against the piece lodged inside, cracking it against bone and splintering into the tendons and raw nerves of his flesh. Link howled and wheezed, the sounds themselves caught like a trapped animal ripping itself bloodily from a steel trap

Another arrow was knocked in the bow, the creaking line pulled back and Link’s eyes widened as the wicked black tip aimed at him, point blank, potent energy humming in the taut line and Dark Link’s malicious gaze seared red down the wooden shaft. Link held his breath and snapped his eyes shut when the arrow was loosed.

He was surprised to feel it sink through the balled bundle of fabric still tangled over his head, effectively pinioning his arms above him and leaving everything exposed. He tugged experimentally at the new restriction but couldn’t even dislodge the single arrow, not with the shock of pain still leaping and biting from his shoulder with every movement. The shade laughed again at his fear, breathing in his struggles as if it were radiating off him in a fine bloody mist.

_Running away from me won’t work, not here and not in the waking world either._

His dark twin began to grind against him, pressing their clothed dicks together. Link tried not to notice, closed his eyes and focused on the sharp uncomplicated ache in his shoulder. The clarity of pain from a weapon that would eventually mend. Take the arrow out, bandage the wound, drink a potion and it would heal. He focused on the idea that he would have the opportunity to get over something. He didn’t even try to kick when his leggings were drawn down and he felt the spongy hot press of flesh against his, both being pumped as one in Dark Link’s grip. This was familiar, but the pangs darting through him from his twin’s palm and the hard sliding flesh were new and unwelcome. Bubbles of disgust and self-loathing and denial began frothing up in time with the blood pulsing between his shoulder and half hard cock.

 _He’s trying to make me feel it, he’s trying to make me like it_ , Link thought to himself.

He moaned, sick with fear and shame at his realization. It was the one clear distinction between them, the shade knew what he was doing and was cruel and exact in his methods while Link struggled to keep up and make sense of it all. Sex was a scary thing forced to endure, not something he thought he was capable of participating in. The proof was in his lack of an erection through every single horrific encounter.

He wasn’t like Dark Link, especially not in this arena.

“I’m not like you, not like this,” Link squeezed out his thought aloud. Something, anything to set him aside from this. Dark Link growled and pulled his hand away, kneeing Link’s leg up and pressed two fingers deep into him, spreading him open unceremoniously. Link wailed at the sudden change and new assault.

_You’re not like me? Think you know yourself better? That you’re innocent from all of this?_

The shade was angry, a simmering boil beneath the tight clip of his words, a low growl in Link’s mind. He began stroking Link with one hand, gripping hard, sliding the loose flesh over his dick with a rabid ferocity, pressing another finger into his tight, unbroken hole. He paused just long enough to spit on Link’s dick, and Link was surprised that such a small thing, after everything else, still caused an additional pang of disgust. Dark Link worked the flat of his palm over the sensitive head. Link was still half-hard, not quite erect and the sudden pressure and attention drew a long keening hiss from him.

He could scarcely believe it, actually shaking his head _no, no, don’t react_ , as his body gave the sing-song of mocking betrayal and he felt his cock grow, lengthen beneath Dark’s fingers. Felt his other hand stop pumping in and out and just hook the fingers inside, swishing back and forth over a shallow spot inside him that wasn’t wholly made of pain and Link wanted to cry when it slowly dawned on him that it felt actually good, sent little warm sparks up through his cock.

_You don’t get to pretend anymore, you’re just like me and I’m gonna prove it to you._

Shouldering Link’s leg up even higher, turning and kneeling on the other one still splayed on the ground, he left off fondling Link’s dick to grab his own, already hard and huge and Link had only a moment to draw in a breath and brace himself before the black length was pushed through the resistance of muscle.

Link screamed, it made it easier, no one was around to hear him anyway. But instead of plowing all the way through like every time before, Dark just held steady, the head of his cock nestled inside his clenching tight ring. He was letting him get used to the shocking girth of it while his free hand continued to pump him quickly and steadily, not letting his dick flag completely through the pain of penetration.

As his dark twin continued to rub, the pain between his legs lifted back just enough to coyly reveal the size and hardness of his own cock, distracted enough to feel it grow against Dark’s palm once again. Straining into his knowing grip which was loose and natural, the snap of his wrist practiced and businesslike, but effective nonetheless. Link grew hot and his shoulder and ass seemed to numb themselves away to a dull pounding ache that throbbed in time with his heartbeat. In fact, with Dark Link holding his own cock steady, shallow gentle thrusts that only encompassed the head of his dick, rubbing the sensitive spot inside him that had been covered completely by pain every time before. It pushed in, matching the tempo of circled fingers slipping wet and loud over his throbbing hard dick, making everything meld together in a push-pull circuit of pleasure and pain. All of it unwanted, but it made the horror slip down his throat more easily with the coating of guilt and shame.

 _See? You’re just like me,_ Dark Link murmured, cradling Link’s cock to show the scary, impressive size of it. He went back to jerking him off as easily as if it were his own dick, pressing measured, precise thrusts in to accentuate his sweet spots.

Link felt something leaping up in him, thought frantically that he needed to pee, but that couldn’t be right, not now, not with his dick looking like a weapon and his body becoming his own worst nightmare. The strange hot, ticklish rush that was building and rising felt wrong, and good and oh so bad because he was totally and completely out of control for any of it.

He arched, gaped and shook as it overtook him and just as the crest began to shoot upward through his loins Dark Link jerked forward, surging the full bracing length of his cock deep inside Link, abandoning the unsatisfying shallow thrusts once he knew Link had passed the point of no return, the mechanism was already moving and he wanted to feel his first forced orgasm from the inside.

The sudden spike of dick filling him wasn’t enough to stop the chain reaction and Link screamed at the sudden searing pain coupled with the hot streaking pleasure being drawn unwillingly out from between his twin’s galloping fingers. It felt like he was sneezing on the wrong end and he clamped down hard as white ropes shot out from his dick. Dark rode it out as Link bucked and spurted through his fingers, eyes wide and glazed through the forced completion. Link fell back, boneless on the ground but the doppelganger didn’t slow his frantic pace one iota, continued to pump Link’s spent cock and ram deeply into his twitching body.

After a few seconds of the continued assault, Link began to cry out again, hypersensitive in the wake of orgasm and it only spurred Dark Link on faster, fucking him hard and turning even that brief flash of pleasure into another form of torture. He pulled completely out, penetrating Link again to the hilt, over and over until his muscles shook from the effort, making it hard and cruel and painful as possible.

 _I told you we were the same…This is how sex works you childish fool,_ Dark Link panted out between rough thrusts and he stilled suddenly, splashing his seed deep inside Link.

Link didn’t respond, only going still and silent as an unresponsive corpse while Dark Link groaned and gurgled over him, grinning in satiated victory.

He pulled out slowly, Link could feel the loose slide and hear the slurp as it popped free. He didn’t move, let his legs fall and sprawl on the side. The shadow grinned and grabbed the arrow shaft holding his arms in place and wriggled it free, tearing a larger hole through the fabric as the barbs caught and held through the retreat. Link still didn’t move, head turned to the side; he focused on the ooze of blood tracking down his shoulder, the trail drying and cracking on the edges. His whole attention and world reduced down to the slow progress of liquid leaving his body and he didn’t even twitch when he felt the sharp tip press against his fucked open hole.

_Hey, Link, pay attention. It’s not gonna be that easy to block this one out._

Link still didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge the words, just blinked slowly and blankly, another rivulet of red separating and branching down a new patch of skin. Dark Link shrugged.

 _You can’t avoid sleep forever, but it’ll be fun to see you try,_ and that was the only warning Link got as the narrow cutting edges sliced inside him from each cardinal direction, shredding his abused insides to ribbons. Link moaned and a sob plucked at his heaving chest at the fresh torture, the oily, heavy ache of internal bleeding, the sharp, fiery agony of tender membranes slicing open between his legs. He was losing his mind to the pain when the floor finally, gratefully dropped out from under him and he felt himself falling backward through the newly formed cracks, down and away from the fatal wound, his stomach lifting up in ticklish, fearful vertigo before slamming back into his body. The pain obscured itself beneath a murky lake of water, lurking and dank just below the surface.

His eyes fluttered open to the bright orange rind of the sunrise, the nightmare ending only a few minutes after he’d unwillingly drifted off. He’d woken up from the terrible dream, maybe before even Dark Link was finished with him, or maybe the evil spirit knew he was losing control over him through the mortal wound and being so far from the Shadow Temple. It seemed like the shade wanted to hurt him up as much as possible before he slipped away. He’d wanted to kill Link in the dream.

Link continued to pant, eyes unseeing until the stillness soothed his aching heart and he eventually sat up. He shifted, felt a sticky wetness in his tunic and felt heat prickle over his cheeks as he thought back to the unwanted pleasure, the way something shot out of him and he shivered as it all connected, as the implication of Dark not only impacting him in his dreams but his waking hours as well made the whole thing reel into an even deeper pit of despair.

“Nightmares?” a cool, soft voice showered down from directly overhead. Link jumped in surprise and looked up to see Sheik crouched and balanced on a tree limb, watching him intently. His eyes seemed to burn with bronzed orange and Link had to look away first, swallowing hard to remove the pasty dryness in his mouth.

Link tried to think of a response but quickly gave up trying to be polite. A smoldering took up residence in his belly and he couldn’t tell if it was more shame or anger.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked quietly. His heart still felt like a frantic kicking rabbit, a phantom ache playing catch between his shoulder and lower abdomen. He had no idea what to do about the shameful wetness pressed protectively between his legs and he didn’t want to draw attention to it. He had no blanket, only his tunic, so he folded his hands over it to cover it. He looked back at Sheik, waiting for a reply.

Now it was Sheik’s turn to look away and search for a reason, one that didn’t involve watching Link have a wet dream. He was turned on by it but also wary, it seemed like Link was having a nightmare. Sheik hadn’t meant to watch from his lookout perch, but once he started he couldn’t pull his gaze away. It was impossible to ignore Link as he moaned and writhed and his dick strained against his loose tunic. It was a difficult scene to interpret, it was obviously what he first imagined it to be, but it also seemed like Link was fighting a great battle. Maybe he was… Sheik fooled himself into thinking he wasn’t at fault if he just watched, wasn’t doing anything wrong by letting the beautiful boy dream and so he wasn’t prepared to discuss his reasons. He didn’t want to reveal himself for what he was.

“I was just returning the favor. It hasn’t even been an hour since you fell asleep. I thought you needed the rest...”

Link gave Sheik such an appalled and hurt look that he faltered in his words, stalled what he was saying and he immediately regretted saying anything at all. It was too obvious, he had to stop. He couldn’t indulge in this fantasy any longer.

“I’m sorry, Hero,” Sheik offered, hoping that would be enough to wash over the misunderstanding, enough to excuse his voyeuristic exploitation.

Link sank down into himself and took a long moment to respond.

“I’m no Hero. I can’t even touch the Master Sword anymore.”

Sheik leapt on that, knew it was a safer topic than feelings or admissions.

“That’s what we’re going to find out, why the Master Sword has begun to reject its true wielder. Fear not, Hero of Time, for if you weren’t the true wielder then you never would have been able to pull the sword from the stone in the first place.”

“Would a Hero of Time really allow himself to be…” Link trailed off. Sheik waited patiently. Link sensed his eyes on him and looked away searching for an end to the sentence Sheik was still expecting.

“...allow himself to be, beaten?” Link finished tenderly.

“Is that what happened in the Shadow Temple? You were defeated?”

Link shrugged, buried himself deeper into his tunic and buried his head against his knees. He really did look like a child when he did that….

“Link… what happened? You never told me what you encountered in the Shadow Temple.”

Link didn’t look up, in fact he seemed to cave in more. Sheik had just about given up on a response and was starting to rise when he heard his muffled reply.

“I found just that. Shadows and evil.”

And then an even quieter plea, one he barely caught.

“Please, wake me up next time.”

Sheik was silent taking in his hunched and protective form, as if holding himself steady against incoming blows.

“I will. And... I’m sorry,” Sheik jumped down and walked toward the stream. He didn’t hear Link’s softest response yet.

“Thank you…”

* * *

Epona sensed something wrong with her boy. She was normally a fiery steed that would rear and whinny at the touch of the reins if she felt like it, something Link had grown used to and actually enjoyed. They used to tear across Hyrule Field together, leaping fences, dodging peahats, and harassing cuccoos. But Link was heavier than usual, slumped in exhaustion and grief and fear and while the latter made her skittish and hyper alert, the former two made her docile and gentle. Picking her way carefully around rocks and dips, not making any sudden turns or rearing up.

She could sense his emotions easily, being a prey animal her life depended on being able to accurately read a situation and the intentions within. She sensed danger often before Link did and he was always ready to fling an arrow at it or stab a sword through whatever was coming her way. They relied on one another, he was the single member of their combined herd and with him slouched on her back like a sack of unresponsive potatoes, she took matters into her own hooves.

Epona picked the easiest paths and she flicked her tail to keep the bandaged person behind her following along. Link trusted the stranger so she would tolerate him, but she wouldn’t let him touch her. She still had her pride and fierce spirit after all…

Link swayed in the saddle and she slowed, sensing something wasn’t right before Link sat upright and regained his position. He dropped his heels, touched lightly on the rein.

 _I’m still here,_ the contact said and it put Epona at ease. She walked forward.

Every mile or so he would sway, correct himself, and then urge her quietly along. It was strange, silent conversation and she was even more cautious than before.

At some point she realized that Link was asleep in the saddle and she slowed to a stop, grazing nervously, looking around and holding herself steady. She was patient and concerned for her boy and she nearly kicked at Sheik when he came closer. Instead she pinned her ears flat, showed her green-stained teeth and huffed protectively.

“Shhh, shhhhh, it’s alright my sweet one. I’m not going to hurt him.”

Epona wasn’t fooled by the soft tone, the downward eyes, the submissive posture. He wouldn’t look directly at her which was a comfort but she wasn’t going to let him touch Link. Suddenly Link jerked awake, she felt his jolt, and he was gripping her mane and rubbing her neck.

“Link… Are you alright to ride?”

“I’m fine,” was the clipped reply. He urged her forward again.

* * *

It was night, they were close to the Gerudo border and the land had turned to rusty rock formations towering around them.

“Through the desert is the Spirit Temple. But we will first need to deal with the gate blocking our way,” Sheik explained. Link barely nodded.

That night Link once again demanded the first shift, despite Sheik's protests and as before, he failed to wake Sheik when they agreed he would take over. Sheik woke on his own and told Link to sleep. He looked like he didn’t know what to say in response, just silently stared, eyes pleading for something Sheik was afraid to ask. Did Link want something more from him? He didn’t want to spoil everything.

As he stood watch, Link remained hunched where he was, neither lying down nor spreading out.

Sheik watched him not sleeping, not even pretending to sleep, staying awake despite the dark deathly shadows under his eyes and he had to say something.

“Link, you need to rest to regain your strength.”

“I’d rather stay awake.”

“You’ve barely slept the last two nights and there are only a few more hours till dawn. Please, just try to sleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep,” Link hissed, glaring meaningfully at Sheik. He felt his heart drop, a sharp shard of ice piercing through his hopeful heart. Link must have known he was awake, must have known he was watching him and now he was disgusted.

Why hadn’t he stayed away? Why hadn’t he tamped down on those emotions to begin with as he’d been trained to do? He slunk away, head lowered. “I’m sorry Hero, I won’t do it again.”

Link stared after him, confused but too tired to process the strange response. He was focusing everything he could on staying awake. He could feel his evil twin inside beckoning, whispering in his ear - _it’s alright, Link, you can go to sleep, just lie down right there, I promise the ground is softer than it looks. It’ll be morning in no time, are you going to do another day of riding without any sleep?_

He grit his teeth, wished Sheik was still around so maybe they could talk and he could distract himself from the misty musings.

“Stop it, please just leave me alone…” Link ground out, clutching at his head, drawing all his limbs in tight around him. The voice laughed quietly, maliciously in his ear.

_I knew it would be fun to watch you struggle. And I’ll be here waiting when you fall._

Link began to rock back and forth, self-soothing in 100 different ways, none of them quite enough to exorcise the evil voice that never ceased his taunting, his promises, his vivid descriptions of what horrors to expect next.

* * *

Sheik came back after scouting for food. After being found out by Link he knew better than to stay, hoping some time and distance and the apology he left to marinate would be enough to hold them together. He spent time making certain he wasn’t going to follow any of those bad ideas again, he would give Link his space and only help when appropriate.

He walked back to their impromptu camp and saw Link standing against one of the towering walls of rock. As Sheik stepped closer to see what on earth he was doing his heart sank as he realized Link was slowly, methodically plunking his head against the hard surface, beat after beat. There was a small spot of red where he lifted his face.

“Link, stop!” Sheik held out a hand but didn’t touch him. Link wheeled around, eyes wide and frantic, rimmed white with fear and desperation before flaring scarlet with embarrassment at being caught doing that to himself. Obviously he hadn’t slept at all. He clutched his forehead, drew his hat quickly down over the small wound and without missing a beat he turned, picked up a tack brush and started to rub down Epona’s rusty coat with large circular sweeping motions drawing the dust and loose hairs to the surface.

“It’s time to go right? Let’s get a move on.”

Sheik watched, still stunned by the head banging and realized he was trying to save face. He decided he wouldn’t get on his bad side again by asking about the strange behavior.

“Wouldn’t you like to eat something first?”

Link slowed the brushing, stopped and leaned against Epona’s warm flank. She flicked her tail at him inquisitively.

“Please, I just want to go.”

Once again, Sheik didn’t argue.

* * *

They made it to the bridge by early afternoon, only to find the whole thing was still broken and unable to be crossed normally. Epona whinnied and pranced in place, eager to leap the canyon. Link felt lightheaded and barely able to hold on but they managed to get across with only a few false starts. Sheik made his way over using a puff of smoke and a length of chain, flashing over with a move that defied gravity.

“This is where we’ll need to be careful, Gerudos don’t take well to trespassers, especially men. We’ll need to use stealth to get through…” He trailed off when he heard a thud and Epona’s steps stop. He turned to see Link fallen on the ground, having fallen asleep in the saddle yet again and unable to keep his balance. Epona sidestepped, keeping one huge watery eye fixed on her boy. If a horse could look repentant she certainly fit the description, head lowered sniffing anxiously at him, rounded back and lowered tail.

It wasn’t a good place, there were guard patrols that came even this far down the path. Sheik jogged back over and eased his way beneath Epona’s glare, slipped an arm under his shoulder and lifted Link and he hurried back down the way they’d come. Epona trotted closely behind.

* * *

_So you lasted, what, two and a half days? Three days? Only a matter of time before you’re mine again and again and again._

“Why are you doing this? I defeated you already! In the Water Temple! Why are you in my head…?” Link trailed off helplessly. They were standing and facing each other, Link looked ready for a fight, fists raised but sheath empty. It was an empty, defensive posture; one Dark Link could safely ignore.

_You don’t get it yet, do you…_

“Get what?”

 _I’m every evil thought, bad intention, and harmful thing you’ve done concentrated and boiled down into a sentient form_ , Dark Link rattled off easily. _Obviously the Hero of Time can’t have any of those things, not if he wants to wield the sword properly. So when you happened to be the one to pick it up, all the badness inside you was balled up and cast out. That’s how I was born._

“But…”

 _But what? You thought you were destined to be the Hero of Time because of fate? Because you’re really such a good person?_  The mirror laughed, it was easy to read his thoughts. It was also getting easier to speak. His voice was stronger, less distorted.

_Do you really think they’d let a ten year old child be the Hero of Time? Do you really think you’re the only one who could do what you’ve done? I tell you, anyone could have followed your exact steps and done a better job than you._

With each accusation Dark Link stepped closer, grew blacker and thicker, taking on a more realistic appearance. Link seemed to be getting smaller, weaker, washed out. He couldn't deny the truth of the mirror held up, exposing him. 

 _If they saw who you really are_ \- He tossed the words out casually. _They wouldn’t ever depend on a selfish, little child like you._

Suddenly Link was a child again, looking up into the leering face of his worst nightmare, squat wooden shield and bare legs and all.

His twin laughed again, thoroughly amused at the literal interpretations that dreams sometimes offered. An even weaker more malleable target.

_It won’t be as fun like this, I like it when you try to fight back. Oh well… I suppose this means you’re good and ready._

Child Link was frozen, knees knocking, unable to even move as this larger, evil version of himself strode forward. The black shadow grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up in a choking grip, legs flailing and arms scrabbling frantically against the forearms holding him up stronger than steel.

He was terrified, staring down into the twin flaming hellholes on the shade’s face, before he grinned and slammed his head ruthlessly against the child’s face.

Link, even within his own dream, fell away to nothing.

* * *

Sheik had Link holed up in the wall, a small Skulltula hollow he’d found, cleaned out and kept camouflaged for his own uses. He had many hiding spots around Hyrule, though this one was obviously not the best diameters. It was only meant for one person really and with the awkwardness between them from earlier, he truly was trying to keep his distance and be respectful. Hard to do when the hiding spot wouldn’t even allow them to sit side by side.

He’d tried many different angles already, tried to keep some distance but it wasn’t possible. And with twilight finally sweeping in, the hole was cramped, hot, and his muscles were starting to ache from holding himself up and away from Link for so long. There was no use for it; he had Link propped in front of him, legs folded up and leaned him back against his chest. He’d spent the time keeping count of the guard patrols and timing the interval. He had a pretty good sense of their routine schedule now and felt confident he could get them both out under the cover of night.

After stuffing a comatose Link in the hiding hole and covering their tracks in the shifting sand he’d slapped Epona on the rump, earning a glancing kick for his troubles, and the fiery mare had leapt the chasm all on her own, heading off somewhere to graze. She would be back, he was sure. She wouldn’t abandon her boy.

Sheik was certain the Great Fairy would know what was wrong with Link, she would have a solution. But the obstacles in their way, if Link couldn’t even sleep or wake properly there was no way they were going to be able to cross the desert in his condition. He knew it was a treacherous task when they set out but he hadn’t expected Link to be this bad.

Suddenly he felt him stirring in his arms; good timing, a patrol had just finished their rounds. That meant they had time to get out of there before the next one came around.

There was a change in his breathing, picking up as he began to struggle against the arms around him and Sheik released him, scooted away as much as he could, which was to say not much at all, and Link was sitting up, feeling the wall, his own arms and head, his chest, as if checking that he was all really there.

“Link, listen, I’m sorry you have to wake up in a place like this, we’re on Gerudo lands and this was the only hiding spot close by, I know it’s tight but I promise you I didn’t do anything.”

Link stopped with his self-searching and looked over his shoulder at the man pressed against the wall behind him before facing forward again and chuckling lowly to himself, shaking his head.

“I knew there was something strange about you. Not to worry, I’ve already introduced him to that.” Then he laughed again, louder, unhinged.

“Link? What’s wrong?”

The laughter stopped immediately and Sheik felt something akin to fear tinder in his stomach.

“Absolutely nothing. Just enjoying the view.”

Sheik didn’t know how to respond to that so he stated the obvious, the kindling of apprehension growing larger.

“Link, there’s a wall in front of you…”

“I know, a real wall in the real world and I can touch it…” He sounded amazed, as if he’d never encountered such a thing in his life. He placed his palm flat against the wall, savoring it’s hard sureness before continuing.  “Or, would you rather I touch you?”

“Excuse me?” Sheik asked, incredulous, certain he must have misheard it.

Link turned in their tiny hole, a strange, barely constrained look on his face. He smirked and Sheik had the brief flashing impression of a serpent, before he leaned forward and bit at Sheik’s clothed neck.

It wasn’t gentle, but it was obviously meant to be sexual and Sheik was frozen between embracing the long sought contact or pushing the confused boy away. Because that’s what he must be, this couldn’t really be coming from him. Not after the tears, the panic attacks, the nightmares.

“I don’t care how you do it, you don’t even have to take your mask off. Just please, please fuck me hard,” Link growled, more of a demand than a request, and definitely not what Sheik would have expected from the young boy.

There was something wrong, something amiss, but suddenly it was happening quickly, Link was still pressing open mouthed bites against his neck and chest, nipping and breathing heavily, making their constrained space even more claustrophobic and hot. He turned around fully, now straddling Sheik and grinding hard against the wrapped fabric of his hips, running his gloved bandaged hands up and down Sheiks sides, laughing again, mean-spirited and disturbing Sheik even as he felt himself responding and growing hard. He’d never been touched in his physical body like this, it was a fantasy come true and the conflicting sensations racing through his touch-starved body easily overcame his promises from before. 

“That’s right, that’s right, you’re gonna ram your hard cock up in this soft sweet body, I want to feel you deep inside me.”

“Wait, Link, this isn’t what…”

“What I want? Come on, you’re already hard. I’m telling you I want this, please just fuck me good.”

Bewildered, Sheik opted for the neutral option and didn't do anything. It didn’t seem to matter to Link that Sheik was just watching intently, trying to determine what was wrong, all he was focused on was his cock, releasing it from it’s complicated wrapping, stroking it a few times to make sure he was fully erect and then straddling him in their miserable hovel, trying to work his way down on it totally dry and unprepared.

“Link, stop, this isn’t what you really want is it? You can’t even do it like that, you need some oil, you need to do it gently first, prepare yourself, look, I have some here… _Ah_!” Sheik and Link cried out at the same time as the unforgiving scrape and squeeze hurt them both though Link was far more determined than Sheik would have anticipated.

Link winced, panted, then affixed that strange mad grin that had far too many teeth.

“This is nothing, guardian spirit. Believe me.”

Sheik cringed, noticed the new revealing title Link had given him and wondered how he’d figured it out. He fumbled with his pack and pulled out a small vial, spilling some oil over his body, working some up on the bottom edge of his cock that hadn’t yet been swallowed up by the painfully dry ass. As Link worked his way down, absorbing some of the lubrication and drawing it up, it made the movement easier on them both. But it was still awful, still unbelievable this was happening.

True, Sheik had dreamed about this, fantasized about the boy but he was content to let those stay in his mind forever, never in his wildest dreams had he thought it would be reciprocated, and especially not in such a miserable, soulless way. Sure Link was riding him, and his hands were on his hips, helping him along, but the whole thing felt mechanical, like a means to an end, and sure enough when he reached down to touch Link under his tunic, he wasn’t even hard.

Sheik was speechless and it took a long moment to gather words to put the raw, blurry scene into some clarity.

“Link, why are you doing this?”

Still panting, still wincing, _was he really in that much pain?_ Link looked down, grinned wider than he’d yet done. He leaned down and whispered in his ear.

“Because now, you won’t be able to save him.”

When he pulled back, his eyes fluttered, he swayed, looked like he was about to pass out when he just as quickly clicked back online.

Link whimpered, looked around, saw Sheik under him, looked down further, saw Sheik in him, his eyes widened and he drew in a huge breath, trembling and gasping as he suddenly couldn’t breathe and Sheik knew from the look of utter devastation and panic in his glazed eyes that he’d made a huge mistake.

Link screamed.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I aaalmost went the shota route for a minute there, but I’m glad I didn’t. It’s more symbolic that at that point Link had been stripped down to his most vulnerable self, his weakest state, making it easier for Dark Link to take control of their body in the waking world. Still, if you want to imagine that, Dark Link probably would have done that too. :/ Naughty naughty. 
> 
> So this chapter was a bit different. I tried to keep it in a similar style to the first two but it just came out like this, Epona POV and all. I really love that damn horse. And since this fic seems to be writing itself now, there’s gonna be another chapter. Maybe two. I had an ending planned out but it’s gone off the rails and I’m pretty sure this is better. It’s best not to fight with your stories. 
> 
> Now if only Link and Sheik could use their damn words this might not have happened but neither one is very good at sharing, are they? Ah, poor Link. I’m so mean to him. You should have seen how many times I killed him in the game. Ooops.


	4. Fall

Reality was ephemeral and unreliable, so flimsy under the combined weight of trauma, sleep deprivation and near-constant vexation from his vengeful shadow that it only took a soft nudge to enervate Link’s sense of self. Some protean part of his psyche came rolling down through him, changing him in the only way the subconscious knew how.

Show utter submission.

His body shifted, shrank, softened; shield groaning as the metal bent before taking on a splintering, cracking wooden quality. His white leggings shriveled away to nothing, both his boots and tunic shortened until smooth, young legs were visible - Link couldn’t perceive the changes, only that suddenly Dark Link towered over him, eyes glowing bright with predatory amusement. Link looked up to meet his gaze and felt paralyzed, pinned down by the unreasonable, unrelenting terror that suffused through every corner of his mind. Dark Link snatched him by the collar and yanked him up into the air and Link could only gasp out a short high scream before the skull-bash sharply cut him off.

Pain strobed white behind Link’s eyes, helixed around his skull. His self control shoved deep into a black bag and Dark pushed him down into the folds, gathered the reins of their nerves and yanked them from Link, taking over and sparking a raw foreign delight through their shared body. Link felt Dark’s vicious joy as a sharp jolt before it muffled into nothing. 

Deep in his reduced unconscious state, the lingering place of comas and subconscious detritus, Link was content not being in control. He settled into the murky sediment, finally quiet and unmolested for once and he was grateful that Dark’s attention focused outward. He felt their limbs moving far away, extended like long, wet loops of dough beyond his perception. They tingled with numbness but he still knew he was moving. Even with all five senses blindfolded he still had an awareness of his own body, an idea of the space he took but couldn’t currently command. Disembodied without leaving his own flesh; he could only crouch and wait in the blindness.

A crumbly noise floated to him, slowly growing louder. Shifting. Breathing. A heavy, frenzied pant that Link immediately recognized and flinched back from. He knew what those sounds meant and he turned and burrowed back into the numbness, strained for the eerie silence rather than the inevitable scene he was being inched into, second by second. He heard Dark’s vindictive laughter echoing around him as he passed the torch of cognition and reality shifted its fickle focus again.

Link’s limbs snapped back into their sockets, the smell of dirt, sweat and sex filled his nostrils and tight, intimate pain rippled between his legs burning more urgently than any illusion. Link felt his body rise and fall with the motion and the wet, piercing sensation was too sharp to be yet another hallucination. Despite all of that he still couldn’t see, still couldn’t move, wrapped in a black shroud while his body was manipulated around him. Link couldn’t do anything but run circles in his mind, thoughts whirling in a panic though one strident note of dissonance kept pounding in the background.

It didn’t make sense; he’d been hunted long enough to know himself well. Dark wouldn’t bother paralyzing or blindfolding him when he’d made it clear how much he enjoyed a struggle.

As soon as the thought connected Link felt as though scales were being peeled back from his eyes and finally his sight flickered through a dim, blurry filter. The final, nasty surprise that Dark had been saving for him revealed through the first colors his eyes could snatch from the gloom, the bold blue and red of Sheik’s uniform as he rocked up into Link.  

For a moment Link wildly thought it must be another trick, it was really just Dark Link forcing him yet again, another fevered torture dream, but then Sheik looked up and Link saw the burned orange smoldering dark with desire, the flush of arousal evident on his high exposed cheekbones, the way his mask puffed and shrank against his open panting mouth.

Even Dark had no way of conjuring a vision like that.

Link didn’t know how he could feel anything else. So many varied forms of pain, even before Dark appeared he’d already felt the slice of a blade, the weight and brunt of a blow, the ringing bloom of explosions in his ears, through his frame. The dreamy passing excruciation of all the tortures Dark could commit in the short sleeping hours he’d stolen. But none of that prepared him for the lance of agony that shot through his chest as the awful truth cemented itself in reality. The betrayal made him dizzy, vision tunneling down until everything turned foggy around them. He felt himself leaning down and felt his lips manipulating a whisper into Sheik’s ear but he couldn’t register it, couldn’t process what was happening.

It drew Sheik’s attention and he stopped moving.

But it didn’t help. Link still hurt, still felt sticky and dirty and raw around the flesh jammed inside him. Still felt himself swaying, legs cramping, on the verge of passing out again but couldn’t quite get there, not with Dark growling in his skull pushing him forward. It was too much. It wasn’t real. He wanted to go back to the numbness.

Link jerked as Sheik once again came into focus. He felt his head tipping down to stare at the painful throbbing where their bodies joined and Link realized he was back in control of his body, that he was truly awake, and it finally became real. The panic thrashed out from inside Link, opened his throat up and drew a deep wail from him, pulled the noise from the deepest wounded place inside him and gave it flight as he scrabbled back, heels scraping against the floor of the hovel, pushing himself against the wall until he could move no further.

Sheik flinched back at the noise but was still under Link, still inside him despite his retreat. Half-propped against the wall and with all of Link’s weight still resting on his lap there was no space to move back; the hole was just too small for two people.

“Get out of me…” Link hissed, trembles suddenly visible in his frame as he stared wide-eyed, breath pulled in short panicked gulps.

Sheik was already moving, a sick dread flushing through him. After the ominous warning Link had whispered, a taunting threat and confirmation all in one, Sheik felt all the blood drain from his body in that one instant, suddenly lightheaded and starting to go soft. He gripped Link’s ass with both hands, cradling his weight while he wriggled out from under him. Link flinched and Sheik was mortified by the way it still flicked a little jolt of pleasure through him.

He looked down shamefaced, unable to meet Link’s eyes while regret and confusion buzzed through him, swarming his nerves, burning his cheeks. He was still half-hard but trying to hide it as he hastily re-tied the material. Link said he couldn’t save him but that wasn’t the same person who was now flattened against the wall, glaring like a cornered wildcat. Fury and despair mixed into a flashing animal gleam.  

Sheik didn’t anticipate or even draw in a breath to prepare from the sudden incoming blow. Link roared and in the same instant his fist slammed soundly against the side of Sheik’s face, knocking his jaw askew and clattering his teeth. There was an aching pop behind his molars and he was so stunned by the stars it shot off that Sheik couldn’t even move to catch himself. He was hurled to the side, head cracking against the opposite wall.

As Sheik’s brain rattled in his skull, vision blurred in and out and nausea hot in his throat, he heard Link’s rasping breath through a persistent tinny ringing. Felt him drawing up his leggings and try to retie them, curled against the wall, cursing as his hands shook and mutinously undid his attempts at tying a knot. Sheik breathed through the vertigo, shaking his head slowly, appreciating the vibrant pounding between his face and head, the sticky red film he had to blink out of one eye. He deserved that. He deserved so much more. How could he have let this happen? Sheik leaned forward.

“Link, I-”

Link swung around and held the Master Sword deadly level at Sheik’s neck, cloak still hanging off the hilt. The blade took the entire length of the hole, bisecting the space and ringing their shallow breath across the honed steel as Sheik pressed back flat against the wall. Sheik held his hands up and did not move, even when the cutting edge pressed tight against his neck began to shake.

“Don’t touch me,” Link growled, tears of humiliation, pain, betrayal thick in his eyes, blinking fast to keep them there. The Master Sword warmed with a sickly, repelling heat and Sheik could see the first thin plume of smoke rising from Link’s balled fists. A grimace of pain overshadowed the emotional weight for a moment.

“Link, I’m sorry,” Sheik said, jaw throbbing. Link’s eyes widened and then sharpened again. He lunged forward and Sheik didn’t move. The sword plunged into the stone, straight through the right side of his mask, narrowly slicing his cheek open. It hurt, already blood dripped warm from his chin, but the stain blooming down his chest felt like an atoning brand; he deserved it.

“I didn’t know something was controlling you,” Sheik tried, breath fogging the metal as he spoke in a soft, broken lilt. His teeth didn’t quite fit together anymore. “You said you wanted this.”

“But why did you _do_ it? Was something controlling you?” Link’s voice shook as he asked the question.  

“No, I didn’t-”

Sheik didn’t have the chance to say anything else as Link yanked the Master Sword back and thrust forward again, fueled on by a shriek of rage. It speared cleanly through Sheik’s open palm, pinning it to the back wall of the cavern and he grunted low in surprise as pain clutched it’s long electric claws up and down his arm, live wires flowing out from the metal skewered through his palm. His hand curled up tight around the cold metal as his tendons were pinned taut, blood already dripping steadily through his gauntlet.

Sheik endured the moment of raw shock before his hard-packed training took hold and he breathed through the pain, shut down his nerves as he’d been taught, focused on his mission, focused on Link. The agony ebbed back.

Link let go of the Master Sword the moment he punched through and curled in on himself to blow on his smoking palms trying to cool the evil-repelling burn. Sheik breathed deep and slowly sat up straight, absorbing and accepting the pain as information, using it for strength. He had the benefit of years of training, deep meditation and a fine control of his host nervous system. It was possible for Sheik to block some of the pain, not all of it entirely but enough to take the frantic edge off, enough to move and think clearly despite being inconveniently impaled.

Link’s eyes widened, whether because of the spreading blood from Sheik’s face and hand or the unruffled way he moved despite it, and he quickly turned and kicked the false wall open and staggered out into the exposed night.

Sheik had the faculty to be impressed by Link’s sudden display of strength and ferocity. Apparently there was still fight in him despite everything. It was a good sign. Flexing his core muscles Sheik curled and lifted his body up horizontally, balancing his weight on his one free hand. His legs shot out and the ball of his foot caught the hilt guard of the Master Sword dislodging it from the wall with a quick, excruciating jolt. He landed crouched on his feet, hand still held up, blood gushing thickly from the freed puncture wound. There was no time to bandage it and Sheik simply wound a cloth tight around his palm as he leapt out after Link and hastily shoved the hidden wall back in place.

The night was crisp and cool, currents of frothy air from the waterfall coalesced with the sand-heated drafts rolling in from the desert. The waxing moon lit the area with a chalky glow and made it easy to see. Sheik wiped the blood from his eye, tucked his wounded arm close and darted after Link who was limping back to the edge of the canyon where they had entered. He felt yet another stab of guilt seeing him falter, he should have known it was too fast, too out of character for Link. How could he have been so stupid? He’d let the false fantasy of a warm willing partner cloud his judgement. Sheik clenched his mangled fist, setting off fresh fireworks of pain up and down his arm that he dutifully grimaced through.

Link came to a stop at the edge of the bridge, his back turned to Sheik, and it was clear he was judging the distance down, close enough to the edge that his hair lifted and held aloft by the constant billowing of water below. Sheik slowed and moved cautiously as he approached, trying to get in range with his chains. It seemed any sudden move could tip Link forward. Apparently, he wasn’t quiet enough because Link began to speak, letting the words drop woodenly into the chasm before him. Sheik strained to hear him.

“I thought I could handle it. I thought as long as it was just in my head I could find a way because I knew it wasn’t real… But now… Even here...” Link trailed off.

Sheik inched forward.

“Link, what happened to you?”

His shoulders hunched forward and quivered. The body language was clear; it was already coming together, a suspicion hung spinning in Sheik’s mind. He had to know, had to say what Link was too afraid to admit. He couldn’t let his own guilt stop him, he clenched his fingers against his wound and pressed into the clarity of pain. Blood dripped from his knuckles.

“Who else did this to you?”

Link straightened and turned, staring with a blurry, unreadable expression. A thin smile tugged the corner of his lip, but it was so rueful it only heightened the contrasting despair in his eyes, etched into his face, the exhausted slump of his shoulders.  

“I did.”

Sheik tilted back slightly in surprise; that wasn’t the answer he expected. He tried not to let his bewilderment show but Link was already hunched over gripping the hair at his temples, shaking his head.

“I know it sounds crazy - my own shadow hunts me in my dreams - but I don’t know how else to explain it, let alone how to fight him,” Link held his hands out, staring down at his open palms, eyes widening as the self-protective smile dissolved beneath the raw terror, the unending grudge with no egress in sight. Sheik carefully gripped the chain on his lower back making sure to not let it make a sound.

“I don’t know how to beat him, I can’t stop him and every night he’s there, waiting for me. I can’t even escape by waking up…” Link paused, let his hands fall loose and looked up. Sheik froze, caught in his achingly sad gaze and the moment seemed to stretch on.

“How could you do that to me…” Link said softly, hopelessly. It wasn’t even a question, just an echoing grief for the loss of trust, the heartache of betrayal.  
  
“Link, I can’t tell you how sorry I am, I never wanted to hurt you… It’s not enough, I know that. But please, let me help you now. You don’t have to fight alone anymore.”

Sheik could see the internal tectonics shifting beneath the blue surface of his eyes. The desperate need for help quaking against the dissonance of accepting it from someone who’d hurt him in the same way. The pain and faltering sense of duty and inevitability of the struggle were too much and Sheik saw it in his eyes the moment when Link crumbled.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I _can’t_ do it anymore,” he sighed and it came out in a shuddering breath. Link slumped, Sheik crouched.

“Link, what are you --?”

“If you see Princess Zelda, tell her I’m sorry,” Link murmured, the tremors gone from his voice as acceptance became a final blessed balm and without any other hesitation he leaned back, heels tipping over the edge.

Sheik wasn’t close enough to reach him and his hand was still too damaged. He couldn’t grab him with only a split second before Link fell back out of sight. There was no time to think, no other option but to move. Sheik drew the length of chain out and swung his arm forward to snap it down like a whip. The oiled metal rang with silvery sound as the chain flung over the cliff in a blind grab. Sheik felt it rather than saw it when the line slung around Link’s leg, spinning rapidly around his calf and hooking upon itself as he continued to fall. The chain frantically rattled out of his pouch, burning quickly through its limited length. Sheik turned, dropped a knee to the ground and wound the opposite end of the chain between his good arm and his shoulder, holding them together and bracing for the impact. A desperate, costly move knowing the damage of recoil, but it was the only thing he could do to save Link.

Even with the fulcrum of his shoulder and arm, the sudden jerk of Link’s body weight dragged Sheik forward and threatened to take him over the edge as well. He dug his heels in, strained back and threw his weight against the chain, even wrenching his injured arm around the line to take some of the pressure. He managed to bring them to a stop perilously close to the rim himself, panting in exertion as he tried to recover while still supporting all of Link’s weight.  

Link felt the chain wrap around his leg but wasn’t prepared for it to abruptly tighten in an unforgiving noose, stopping his freefall and crushing his leg in a punishing, metallic cinch in the same instant. Several things happened at once, his jaw slammed shut from the abrupt halt, teeth nearly biting through his tongue and warmth immediately flooded his mouth. The loud snap of a tree trunk being split echoed through his body, hearing the broken bone before he felt it. The blood rushing to his head was disruptive enough to block it for a moment, long enough to notice the patterns in the boiling white water below. At first it just felt sickeningly warm, like his entire leg was covered in a heated weight. Then the deep excruciation curled in like a fang and Link was reduced by the spiral fracture, reverting to an animal with howls and red frothing panic as his only language.

Link screamed and shrieked and flailed against the lifeline holding all his weight on a broken bone, fighting against the unwanted pain of rescue. The chain swayed, agony jolted down from the different angles of pressure and it was enough to still his struggles. Link let himself hang upside down, panting shallowly with a piteous, uncontrollable whine accenting each exhale, blood pounding in his head and dribbling from his mouth, eyes rolling back and forth in shock. Why wouldn’t it just end? Even that basic choice had been taken from him.

A shudder worked down the chain, pulling him up a few inches. It hurt so badly Link couldn’t stand it, his vision went out and he felt himself retching, spitting curses and bloody bile down into the water below. He blinked rapidly, willing himself to stay conscious. Even as awful as it was to be dangling upside down by a broken leg he still preferred this torture to the more deliberate ravaging from his shadow.

The chain jerked up again, pulling him higher, and Link couldn’t stop writhing, couldn’t stop the high moans dripping from his breath. Then it pulled again. And again. And again. Wrenched up by inches and shattered into pieces by each gain. With each motion trauma endorphin flooded his blood and it graced him just enough buffer to gather his senses and do more than grasp at his leg and wail. He could barely form words with his mangled tongue, his mouth filled with blood just as quickly as he could spit.

“Sheik! Let me go!” Link shouted, the words ungainly and flecked claret as they left his mouth. From his dangling position he could see Sheik’s profile over the edge of the cliff, dipping in and out of his vision as he slowly pulled Link back up. He could barely hear Sheik over the water and wind and blood throbbing between his temples.

“You’re the Hero of Time,” was his clipped reply. As if that explained everything. He heaved and pulled Link up a few more inches.

Link had to gasp for air, working to pull a sentence together before pelting it out. It was easier to focus on the anger and it came out in a hot snarl.

“Find someone else,” Link growled, adding almost as an afterthought, “Someone stronger.”

“Hold your tongue, you’re not dying here,” Sheik strained through clenched teeth.

Something warm dripped onto Link’s face and rolled down his cheek. With a wavering hand he touched his face and his fingers pulled away bright, wet red. Blood dripped down the chain; Sheik’s blood.

Sheik suddenly shouted and stood, pulling fiercely on the chain, throwing his full weight into it and running back in a full body heave, dumping it all into one last spurt of energy to get it over with as quickly as possible. Link rattled briskly up the side of the canyon wall, screams pulled like hot pokers from the marrow, echoing and bouncing off the dripping rocks and somewhere along the way he couldn’t help but pass out, the pain overwhelming all his senses at once.  

Rather than slipping softly into a dream, Link slammed into unconsciousness. All the lights going out at once with Dark already waiting to grab him the second he fell under. Dark’s hands gripped him from behind and immediately they were all over him, digging in, pulling and hooking while he pressed their bodies together and bit deeply at the junction between Link’s neck and shoulder. Link whimpered as he slowly reoriented to the new reality. Dark laid a long lick over the bite before moving up to clamp onto his neck too hard. Link was still loose in his arms, weak and disoriented and too shattered to even try and struggle.

“You coward. Trying to end it all by jumping, how pathetic. You’re lucky that Sheik fellow caught us.” Dark Link growled, teeth going shark-like as he followed the bloodscent of damage. Link noticed the wavering, bubbling quality to his voice was gone, now an audible thing rather than just the impression of words. Apparently his temporary control over their body had given him more substance.

“He certainly was interested in you though, barely had to touch him to get him started.”

Link swayed, replaying the words over and over. He didn’t want to imagine it, didn’t want to remember it, but the rape suddenly made more sense even as it ran ice through him.

“What do you mean?”

Dark Link reached around and grabbed Link’s dick through his leggings, gripping it too tightly, rubbing the head just to feel Link crumple in his arms.

“He was just as weak and easy to manipulate as you, that’s all,” Dark crooned in Link’s ear, slipping his hand beneath the leggings to fist his bare cock.

“No, stop…” Link moaned and pushed back against the arms, trying to hold him away but it just pressed the rest of him closer to Dark, closer to the thick cock pushed against him like a promise. He groaned in fear, tried to flail out from between Dark’s arms which only made him laugh and grip tighter, hissing into Link’s ear.

“Not so fast; this body isn’t just yours anymore, you aren’t allowed to quit. I’m going to remind you where we stand,” Dark let him go and shoved him down to the ground. Link fell heavily on his knees, caught himself with his hands, and turned to see the Megaton Hammer resting nonchalantly against his reflection’s shoulder.

“Let’s make you match the outside,” Dark murmured slyly already savoring the despairing recognition on Link’s face, the silent promise to deliver the same unreal pain from that first time. Link felt the terror redirect, a final panicked bid to get away, and he crawled on his hands and knees as the heavy metal twirled in Dark’s grip. He strolled forward, grin turned feral.

“Don’t go belly up on me Link, reverting to a child won’t save you this time. I’ll just keep going if you do. And it’s a much worse experience in _that_ body,” Dark Link laughed cruelly and swung his boot forward, savagely kicking Link down and standing on his leg to stop him before hefting the Megaton Hammer up over his head with a maniacal grin. He paused there, let the fear build and vibrate and turn into a living liquid thing in Link’s eyes before swinging forward.

Just as the shadow of the anvil fell over him there came a rumbling, the floor shuddered and bucked beneath them both and it threw Dark off balance. The heavy strike zone landed next to Link’s head narrowly missing him by mere inches. The rippling impact was still strong enough to make Link’s teeth rattle together, loud enough to make his eardrums ache.

Far off Link heard his name being called over and over, muffled and wavering as if he were underwater. Dark Link hissed and looked toward the lightening horizon of their mindscape. The voice grew louder, closer.

“We’ll finish this next time. I’ll be waiting, Link.”

The pressure left his leg and Link didn’t hesitate, didn’t question the reprieve. He crawled toward the light, ignoring the laughter clinging to the shadows behind him. Even a broken leg and broken trust were preferable to staying with Dark. He could hear the voice shouting in his ears and he knew it was Sheik but that didn’t stop him from stretching for it, bracing for the horrible hurt he knew awaited him in the waking world.

But instead of pain he was greeted by the tingly, heated aftertaste of red potion.

He swallowed thickly and opened his eyes. Sheik held him in his arms, empty bottle still uncorked in his good hand, and he sighed and slumped in relief when he saw Link wake up. His leg was whole and unbroken, only streaks of oil showed any of the damage from the chain.

“Thank the goddesses…” Sheik muttered. He was still out of breath from pulling him up, sweat and blood covering him, matted in his hair and damp through his clothes. An alarming amount of blood when Link stopped to look. He pushed himself up and shoved Sheik away, scooting back to gain some distance between them. Sheik let him and didn’t say a word; he looked small, wilted.

“Why did you stop me?” Link asked, tongue whole and helpful again.

“You’re the Hero of Time and the _only_ one who can do it. No one else can take this path. If you die so too will any hope for Hyrule.”

Link glared.

“I didn’t ask for this. Any of it. And I didn’t ask to be f-” Link faltered, chest bucking, he couldn’t get the word out, not with Dark’s taunt rattling around his head, the not so distant pain of waking up with a dick in his ass. Link took a breath and squared his shoulders; he had to know.

“You save me to save Hyrule. I get that. But why did you fuck me?” Link asked, not betraying a tremor despite the still-bright flames of fear, anger, and pain twining into a burning cord in his chest.

Sheik couldn’t hold his furious gaze and looked down with a sigh.

“When it happened I didn’t know you were being controlled by this… shadow.”

“But surely he didn’t force you.”

“No. He didn’t- he didn’t force me. I-I’ve always… Link, I’ve always admired you.” Sheik said it slowly, trippingly, but there was the truth. He didn’t look, didn’t want to see Link’s reaction and suddenly the words wouldn’t stop tumbling out.

“But I never thought it could happen, never even wanted to let it be known. I only wanted to help guide the Hero of Time, not burden you with this. But then you woke up and you wanted me too, and you were so willing, so certain. And then it happened so fast I just… I’m sorry Link, I never meant to hurt you.”

It was the most personal and vulnerable thing he’d heard from the man and Link didn’t know how to take the words through his soft broken jaw. The blood still oozing from his cheek and staining most of his front. The gash on his temple coating his eye in red. The bloody bulb of his fist still gripping the now-sodden rag. Crouched there by the edge of the canyon they were close enough that Link could see that they were both shaking.

“I didn’t stop you because secretly I wanted it to happen,” Sheik finally admitted miserably.  

Link frowned, something hurt and ugly and unreasonable twisting around his face. The fist lodged in his gut tightened.

“That’s not…”

He was cut off by a huge spear slamming deep into the ground next to them, narrowly missing them both.

A fuschia line of Gerudo warriors charged down the canyon trail in a tight V formation and it was clear from their deadly silence that the first spear hadn’t been a warning shot, but rather an overeager attempt to hit one of them off guard before moving in for the kill. Sheik and Link were both quick on their feet but Link moved faster. Sheik was hampered by his injuries, once fluid-like motion replaced with jerky exertion. Though he didn’t seem to be openly suffering he was clearly affected. Blood glistened dark against the navy blue along his side, dripping lower as he reached back and yanked the spear out of the ground and tossed it to Link.

“I took too long,” was his only comment.

Link caught the spear but continued to stare, shocked and angry that Sheik was being so stubborn, so stupid. Angry he’d stopped him. Angry he’d hurt him. Angry that, despite everything, he still felt something fierce flare up when he saw Sheik bleeding.

The Gerudos closed in, swift and silent but for the whisper of silk on sand. Sheik spared him a solemn half-glance before setting his sights forward again, crouching to lunge.

“What are you doing? Drink a potion already!” Link hissed, hefting the spear up in front of him, balancing the unfamiliar weapon in his grip.

“This is all I can do to atone. I’ll distract them, then you escape,” Sheik murmured without looking away from the dusky women and their shining spears.

“No, you can’t-” Link reached for him, realizing what he meant, couldn’t quite bring himself to touch him. He found himself caught in an undertow of powerlessness, exasperation and familiarity.

“Yes I can. Link _you_ have to survive this,” Sheik said and from the tone Link knew he meant more than just the warriors now spreading out around them.

Link shook his head, suddenly feeling lost and numb. How could he survive? The fear of being alone and stuck with Dark eclipsed his hurt over Sheik enough to grab hold of his arm that was sticky with blood. A silent plea that he knew was weak, pathetic. That’s what he was.

“Sheik I can’t, please --”

“ _Survive!_ ” Sheik shouted, louder than anything Link had yet heard from the mysterious man. It startled him and loosened his grip enough for Sheik to tear forward. With that as a battlecry for the both of them he streaked into the line of warriors, disrupting their formation with a whirl of needles and chains that lashed out and hit flesh even as the women all managed to leap out of the range of his charge. They jumped back and their uninjured sisters took their place, the circle reformed around them and tightened, hemming them in on three sides with the wicked smile of their curved spears and the gusting precipice behind them.

There was no way forward but through.

Sheik didn’t lose any momentum and continued straight into their ring of blades without his usual finesse, taking on more of a gaudy berserker role, stealing their attention with his bloody, gungho attack and trying to take as many on as he could at once. There was no room for subterfuge here, only the desperate guilt-driven ferocity of a fighter without restraint.

Sheik deftly ducked through the first set of spears, incapacitating the closest Gerudo with needles to the neck as he slipped through. As she slumped to the ground three more warriors fell upon him, slamming down with the longer range of their spears. Sheik twisted on the sand, somehow taking his weight on one hand and doing a handspring, body spinning like a harpoon up into the night sky. He threw down deku nuts blinding all three of them before landing in the dust and collapsing to one knee, blood soaking into the sand under him.

Link ran toward him and deflected a spear thrust aimed right at Sheik’s bowed head. Link still didn’t know what to do about Sheik, how to even feel about him, but it was easier to fall into the instinctual pace of battle. The immediate, and more importantly, corporeal threat was an easier target than the shade or Sheik’s confession. He could actually do something here, even without a sword or shield. And if he didn’t? Then at least he didn’t have to figure out the rest.

Sheik couldn’t save him a second time.

He ran swinging into the fray but the Gerudos were ready for him. They were more experienced with their spears; Link couldn’t get past their thrusts, just working to dodge and block. But he learned fast and had the advantage of near-death desperation. This was familiar, easier. Even without his sword he understood battle, understood how to roll and dodge and strike back with the long weapon. Thanks to the potion he could move easily and focused on the rhythm of fighting, letting the betrayal, the fear, the helplessness all melt down into a single battle-driven rage humming through his limbs.

He wanted to hurt them. He wanted to fight and actually win at something.

Link managed to thrust his spear through their defenses and dropped quickly to avoid the blow swinging past his head from behind, sweeping his own blade across four sets of kneecaps dropping all of those he hit. The other women immediately swarmed over their fallen comrades, blocking Link’s downward swing to finish the job. The crossed spears shoved him back and Link spared a glance to find Sheik. He could hear his winded breath beside him, a worrying rattle accompanying each exhale, but Link was still surprised when he saw a spear jut out in his periphery. He turned to see the thick handle protruding from Sheik’s back still gripped by the Gerudo behind him, her face veiled and unreadable.

There was no time, not even a second to feel anything before Sheik jerked forward caught by another spear stabbed into his thigh. Even then he managed to keep his composure and spun in place, dislodging the spears, grabbing the wood beneath the blades and dragging both their wielders forward. It happened quickly and they were so stunned by his refusal to fall that they didn’t let go in time; Sheik grabbed the back of their heads and slammed their foreheads together, using their momentum against them.

It was the last attack Sheik could muster and he fell back toward the edge of the cliff defending against the return hail of the other warriors. They had done well being outnumbered, unarmed and injured but it was clear Sheik wasn’t going to last much longer. He parried their blows with faltering needle glances, able to redirect from his vitals but not stop them entirely. He was slowly being cut open, bled dry from the small gashes they sliced across his body.

Link turned to help him, closing the distance between them but was stopped by a Gerudo who stepped in his path, double swords held confidently in her hands, face sharp and uncovered. He lowered his stance, readying to block her attack when suddenly her expression changed, eyes widening in genuine recognition that disoriented him. Her swords lowered just slightly as her mouth fell open.

“You… I know you. How are you here?” She murmured, looking just as surprised by the announcement herself as Link felt.

Somehow she had seen him before, despite the fact that Link had never been to Gerudo fortress, despite never having battled its warriors. It was the last thing he heard before the butt of a spear cracked against the back of his skull with enough force it felt like it punched through. He crashed to his knees before toppling forward, sight already leaving his eyes. As he landed face down in the sand his last conscious thought was to wonder what happened to Sheik.

Then there was nothing but Darkness.  

* * *

The heavy, creeping fog was becoming depressingly familiar. Seeing it twine around his legs already confirmed that Dark was nearby, watching him, probably already drawing out the Megaton Hammer like he’d promised. The fear was also familiar. Link knew the taste of it, the color and weight of panic. It was well worn and honed to Dark’s specific, sadistic measure. Link could use the feeling to seek Dark out, feel where the prickling on his neck was strongest, where the cold spot bloomed behind his ear. He could sense Dark before he saw him and even that small warning was something to hold onto. 

Dark came sauntering out from the shadows, Megaton Hammer resting nonchalantly against his shoulder. The promised pain hung above Link and it was enough to snatch his breath.

“Ready for those broken bones?” Dark cackled.

Link didn’t know what to do. He’d tried fighting, running, submitting and the outcome was always the same. The mirror was merciless and tore into him with a detailed understanding of what made him shiver. And until he’d seen the recognition in the Gerudo warrior’s eye Link never questioned Dark’s existence. It never occurred to Link to wonder how he learned it all, what motivated him. An unnecessary question for a creature clearly bent on tearing him apart for no other reason than to embody self-hatred and the death drive all in one internalized being.

But there was clearly more to him than that. Dark had led some sort of life, he had met people, had his own unique relationships in the world. That meant there was some part of him that could be reasoned with, some part of him that was human. Some part of him that allowed him to connect. Link had to find that connection.

“That Gerudo!” Link shouted, loud enough to suddenly stop Dark’s approach. “She recognized you… How did she know my face? What have you been doing all these years?” Link asked and drew in a breath when he met Dark’s gaze, already regretting what he saw. The smirk completely snapped off his face and his eyes seared a bright furious red, brimming with an anger that surprised Link. There were no grinning taunts or jeers this time, just old rage coiling and recoiling.

“You want to know what I was doing?”

Link nodded. Though the plan to keep the hammer at bay was working he already had the sinking sensation of stepping onto a treacherous morass of unwanted secrets. At least he knew the old monster, the new one had a slinking, slimy underbelly with scars from the past that still bulged tender.  

“Unlike you I wasn’t allowed to sleep,” Dark continued and stepped closer, setting the hammer in its strap but that only made him more dangerous. This sullen, baleful version was far more terrifying than the openly laughing and taunting shade.

“As soon as you touched the Master Sword I was formed and expelled.”  

Link felt himself shaking as his reflection drew closer, it seemed he was always, always shaking, but he still managed to stand his ground. Dark stood right in front of him, raised his hand and cupped the side of Link’s face. Link couldn’t stop the flinch as he cringed away from the mirror’s touch. Dark grabbed him anyway, unperturbed, examining his pinched expression as if for the first time. For a moment he looked thoughtful.

“You have no idea what it was like. Being a servant of darkness with the enemy’s face.”

Link heard the words and saw the distance of years in his eyes. Realization dawned on him, a sickly, cold light illuminating the truth of Dark Link’s unexplained experience. He’d been taught, been forced to learn just as Link had been. Link shuddered as Dark drew in closer, pressing their bodies together and wound his arms up around Link’s neck, holding his head immobile. Link couldn’t breathe with him this close, those crazed red eyes beaming directly into his. Dark leaned in and their foreheads touched. All of it a mockery of love, false gestures. The closeness was enough to shake Link to pieces.

“How about I show you?” Dark said, hand resting heavily on his shoulder, head tilted to one side but not a trace of mirth about him.

* * *

Sheik watched as Link was knocked out from behind and though every instinct in him demanded he charge over to assist the fallen Hero, his body betrayed him and couldn’t move quick enough. Even if he could still flashstep over to his side Sheik knew it would still be a slaughter. He could barely keep himself upright. 

The remaining two women in front of him were wary and wily and dangerous because they had already seen how he moved despite his injuries and they weren’t going to underestimate him. They took defensive positions, slowly moving forward with their slicing blades extended in front of them, edging him closer and closer to the cliff. He inched back, but almost sighed in relief when he saw Link being dragged back to their fortress past their bare shoulders. Given what he’d discovered after the nightmarish scene in the cave Sheik was more worried about Link being knocked unconscious than just being captured. The plea by the cliff never stopped ringing in his ears, the panic and despairing fear. Despite what he’d just done Link still clung to him when faced with the prospect of being alone with his own mind. It broke Sheik’s heart.

But they hadn’t killed him yet; he could still be saved. Fighting no longer held any benefit to his mission and so when the women both charged at some unspoken signal he smiled under his mask and followed Link’s example from only a few minutes prior. He tipped back and fell over the cliff, out of the reach of their spears.

Sheik fell weightless for only a second before he slung his reliable chain out and it bit deep into the craggy wall, halting his fall with a harsh jerk. He swung towards the sheer rock face too fast, couldn’t control himself for the landing and nearly screamed when his shredded body slammed hard against the canyon wall. He grunted and whimpered and lost his grip, falling again and scrambling to hold himself up with one trembling fist. Rocks tumbled around him, bouncing off the wall down to the water below. Sheik hoped the sound of his impact was covered by the roaring waterfall but there was no way to know if they would buy the ruse. Sheik leaned against the chain panting, trying to stifle his breath even as he regained it.  

The impact jarred everything loose inside and Sheik wavered in and out of touch with his body. When he got too close the pain overwhelmed him, made his vision flicker and his breath catch, when he distanced himself he lost precision and alertness. Soon it wouldn’t matter what tricks he tried, there was only so much damage his body could take before failing him. He had to stay connected and bear with it, when he pulled back he could feel his control fade. That would be the worst possible outcome, the Hero captured and the Princess killed in the gorge because he couldn’t stay conscious.

Sheik wouldn’t let either of them down.

He clung to the chain with his one good arm, trembling from the uneven weight and held his breath when the two women peered over the edge. They murmured to each other though he couldn’t make it out over the rushing water and left a moment later. He waited as long as his arm could stand it, counting down from 100 and taking catalog of all his wounds.  

His right hand was useless, climbing back up held a huge challenge but Link’s plea in his ear kept driving him forward, kept pushing him up even when his left arm shook from the effort, even when he grunted to lift himself, hefting his weight up and shooting his arm out to catch himself higher up in the same motion. It was exhausting, each pull felt like his bicep was tearing, the muscles in his shoulder screaming and burning as he pushed through his own limits and made headway on pure adrenaline fumes. He couldn’t afford to wait.

When his fingers caught the edge and the blessed security of the flat ground he nearly wept in gratitude. One more huge effort then he would be up. He didn’t let himself think about all the hurdles that still remained, the long stretch of sand, the walls, the prison, the ever watchful guards; he would be overwhelmed with the labyrinth of variables. Currently just scaling the single wall was his only goal, his only objective. Get to the top alive.

After all the straining to get up the chain Sheik could barely pull himself up. He shouted with the exertion, flung his leg up to try and catch the edge. It jarred the wound there and he nearly lost his grip altogether. Holding himself by the very last knuckle, finger pads bloody and scraped open, he managed to keep his handhold, take another breath and try again a second later. This time he was able to roll his body up over the side where he lie on the edge, mouth gaping wide as he gasped for air, heart pounding as he readjusted to solid ground.

Sheik ignored the way the earth felt warm and soft and comforting. Ignored the sand clinging to him turning the bloodstains gritty. He didn’t have time to rest.

Sheik rolled over and his eyes caught the trail the group left, two long lines in the sand from Link’s boots as he was dragged away. Sheik struggled up to his feet, felt himself sway and grow dangerously lightheaded and nearly fall back down before regaining his balance. Everything in him throbbed as one. He staggered toward the wall and allowed himself a wan smile when he noticed the scruffy plants growing from the cracks there. Once red and blue potions were created much of the wildlore in Hyrule had been lost and forgotten but just as he preserved his people’s culture, he too carried the herbal wisdom of the Sheikahs. How many warriors had died in this canyon simply because they did not recognize the rupestrine medicine growing all around them?

If he was going to save Link he had to put himself back together first.

The soft pinnated leaves waved and welcomed him; Sheik crouched by the wall and began to  gather as many plants as he could in his reach. He tore a few lacy leaves apart and ripped them up, feeling the sticky resin stain out from the broken stem and crushed fronds. Once it was saturated in its own sap he crammed the plant into the wound on his thigh with an enduring hiss. The bleeding stopped quickly as the styptic resin pulled the skin taut and he was able to pack more in. He pulled down his mask to chew more effectively on the leaves. As he stuffed and coated his wounds the plants already proved themselves effective at ceasing blood flow but he knew they would also prevent infection and help reduce healing time. This had been a common field aid during battle generations ago and Sheik breathed a whisper of thanks to the plants for their help.

By the time he finished tending his wounds sunrise had stolen in on soft grey feet over the far east horizon. Sheik felt slightly better but fatigue had sunk deep into his bones and he felt entirely drained. He wanted to lean there and close his eyes, let the soft sand cradle him. It would have been easy. But Link’s wail, that terrifying sound kept rising like an alarm in his brain, wavering in and out of his ears like he was still there, suddenly balls-deep in a rape he never meant to be a part of. The sound drove him back up to his feet, the sound kept him moving forward, one foot in front of the other, one hand tracing the wall and letting the surface lead him.  

Sheik slunk along the wall until he reached the hidden alcove. He was lucky the Gerudos had been distracted by the promise of battle, it wasn’t the cleanest cover up he’d ever done and if they’d stopped to look he was certain the fault line would have been obvious. He crawled in and quickly wrapped the Master Sword to his back. Everything else he left behind; all of Link’s many other tools: Hookshot, Fairybow, arrows and bombs, a walking arsenal that was currently useless to them both. Sheik needed agility and speed, only the Master Sword mattered in the end.  

Sheik peeked around the corner and whipped around it, intending to sprint along the wall past the guards on the high cliffs but he could barely stop himself from falling forward. He caught himself with heavy throbbing legs but still tumbled to his knees. He’d simply lost too much blood. No amount of herbs could replace that.

Sheik cursed under his breath and pushed up from the ground, hating how weak he was. He wasn’t strong enough to protect both the Hero and the Princess; he couldn’t even stop himself from hurting Link. He was never supposed to choose between them. An internal enemy that made the Master Sword useless had never been in their plans. Link wasn’t meant to be driven to kill himself. Sheik was forbidden from falling in love.

Yet here he was, about to tear headlong into a fully armed fortress with more injuries than he had any right walking around with let alone parkouring his way into a prison cell.

The entire fortress was crawling with Gerudo and he watched carefully to determine his timing. Sheik took a deep breath and pushed up. It would have been easy without injuries, now he faced a stacked gauntlet of his own pain thresholds and physical limits layered with the already scrutinous gaze of the guards. A time challenge as his body could only take so much.

Sheik waited until the first blade of sunlight pierced over the horizon, slanting sideways across the ground. The sunrise blinding the guards was his only hope for getting through in his condition. Sheik steeled himself and darted forward from shadow to shadow, pausing at each spot for only a fraction before recalibrating and pushing off again, every second tensing for the alarm horn or a shout. He hit the wall at the far end of the fortress under a solitary narrow cut in the wall. It had to be their dungeon cell with the window too high up to give prisoners even a glimpse of blue sky. Sheik crouched in his new corner, every muscle tensed for the fight, straining to hear where the attacking guards would come from.

They never came. Somehow he’d miraculously made it.

Sheik carefully pulled out his chain and threw it up over the roof. It caught on the edge and he pulled to test the strength before inwardly suppressing a groan. Rappelling single-handedly with multiple injuries was a unique brand of punishment. Looking up the long swaying line now, knowing every second he waited was another second closer to detection, he swallowed thickly and wondered if his body would hold out. He didn’t let himself think about the height or about how his left arm was still trembling and spent from hauling himself up the canyon wall before. He gripped the line and pressed tight against the raw blisters, felt his muscles wail in protest, felt the lactic acid coating his limbs and dutifully leaned into the pain.

He didn’t have a choice, it didn’t matter how wrung out his body was, how much it hurt. He had to help Link.

He bit back a scream as he pulled himself up, legs wrapping around the chain to take some of the load as he slowly, painfully ascended. One grunting pull and flaring burn after another, dragging himself up through sheer determination.

An eternity later Sheik heaved up onto the thick window ledge, thanking the goddesses in mumbles as he sucked air down like it was water. He didn’t know how he’d made it to the top without detection, it had taken so long and the normally inane task of scaling a wall was suddenly an insurmountable hurdle for his battered body.

As he lie there panting, half out of his mind, Sheik vaguely wondered if all his efforts had been in vain. What if he’d been able to sneak through because it was really a trap to capture him? But when he rolled over and peered over the edge, not certain what he’d see, there was Link sitting curled against the back wall of the cell. He looked up and noticed Sheik, shaded his eyes to see past the glare from the window.

“Sheik, is that you?” Link called, a waver in his voice.

“Link…” Sheik heaved a sigh of relief. He was awake, they had a chance now. A surge of hopefulness reinvigorated him, they would escape together now. Sheik gingerly lowered himself down from the window ledge, held on with his one good hand and dangled a moment before pushing off from the wall with his legs and landing heavily. He immediately collapsed where he landed.

Sheik’s breath rattled in that disquieting way again and he coughed to dislodge it, suddenly dizzy, darkness creeping in around the burnt edges of his vision. He’d lost too much blood. Sheik heard Link get up and move and he had to lean forward and catch himself with one arm. Link stood behind him, not moving, not speaking, just a glacier crackling with frigidity and judgement. Sheik bowed his head, grateful for the wall in front of him.

“Link I’m so sorry for what I did to you, the role I played. It was a weakness and I promise I won’t hurt you again.”

“Really? That’s disappointing,” Link replied, derision dripping from his voice.

Sheik turned, cocking his head back over his shoulder just in time to realize his fatal mistake. Link grinned down on him with an evil malice that the true Hero had no hope of mimicking and Sheik recognized the hunger glinting in his eyes. Sheik tried to sweep his legs out from under him in his crouched position but his calf slammed against Link’s legs like hitting a tree trunk and he was unmoved. Link laughed at the weak attempt and lifted a foot to return his own ruthless kick. It caught Sheik right in his diaphragm, kicking the air out of him in a rush of spittle and slamming him to the stone slab floor. For a few painful seconds he was reduced to croaking gasps as he tried to stabilize himself and suck futily at the air.

The impostor crouched down to watch the effort on his face, tracking the pain as if studying a bug trapped on its back. So unlike Link.

“What have you done with the Hero of Time?” Sheik finally managed to cough out, curling in on himself to protect his belly, to avoid the vicious focused stare. Mind racing to try and buy time, to find a way out. But he knew it was a futile struggle, he couldn’t even stand and this vengeful Link was fully healed and looked relaxed like he’d intended to be in this cell the entire time.

“Nothing at the moment, he’s busy with something else right now.” The smile was pure poison.

“What are you?” Sheik growled, trying to sound fierce knowing it was impossible when he was trembling and weak under his gaze.

“He asked me that too. As if knowing anything will help you.”

He saw the kick coming this time but still couldn’t move to dodge it and didn’t even have the energy to try. The boot collided with his face and blood sprayed out in a fine mist and he felt his nose crunch. It knocked Sheik senseless and he toppled to the floor. His limbs turned rubbery, useless. He spent everything just getting there with the narrow hope that he and Link would be able to work together to escape. Now some evil apparition in Link’s body was prowling around him, stepping on his broken hand, splaying it out under his boot. Sheik keened and scrabbled uselessly on the ground, eyes rolling back beneath the casual violence.

Link eventually let off and Sheik frantically tried to get back to the calculated numbness of his training, tried to find the resolve that brought him this far, but it had already evaporated. He couldn’t block it any longer. Wet trickled from his nose and he felt Link kneel over him, straddling his side before grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head with one hand. Link used his other hand to rip Sheik’s shirt open and back, working through one of the spear holes and tearing the fabric wide with a cracking noise.

His hand slithered under the material, pressed a thumb roughly against the wound and dislodging the poultice to dig directly against the raw nerves. It was like lodging a stick of salt in the wound and Sheik wheezed and bucked against the unnecessary torment. Eventually Link stopped just so he could pull his leggings down and reveal exactly what he planned to do.

Sheik couldn’t push him off, couldn’t even lift his arms against his one palm, and he gasped out loud when he felt Link’s dick press and rub against his inner thigh. He had no way out, the fatigue had sunk into his bones and he felt weakened, made pliable by stress. He never thought this would happen to him.

“Yeah, you’ve been wanting this, huh?” Link said, voice dripping in mockery.

Sheik felt his control shattering beneath his fingers as his body reacted naturally to the male lines lying over him. Pain and longing twining together in waves as his body sought to make sense of the violence, sought to find meaning in the pain. Truly a masochistic wreath around his skull that he leaned into for relief when the self-flagellation just wasn’t enough. He couldn’t help the soft whimper. This wasn’t supposed to be happening -- but maybe it was what he deserved.

“That’ll make it harder to rape you,” Link glowered and Sheik was stunned and humiliated by the twin flares of fear and arousal such a direct statement sparked in him. It wasn’t normal, none of this was normal. Link snarled and grabbed his throat. He clenched hard and watched closely as Sheik flailed and turned purple, eyes bulging before letting him go and pulling his tattered pants off with a final huge rip. Sheik tried to pull himself up but only ended up moving his arm up and down, not gaining any purchase and too weak to pull himself even if he did. Link slapped him across the face before pinning him and hoisting a bloody leg up, scooting closer on his knees and getting into position. He paused to laugh and shake his head when he noticed Sheik was half hard but didn’t move to touch him. The head of his dick pressed to Sheik’s unbroken hole was the only contact he would get.

“Guess I have to make it more painful,” Link grunted and Sheik couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Beaten down by the violence, terrified at the powerlessness, but still some dark desire roared for the touch, for the pain, anything to feel that living connection even if it was to a monster. Link stared into his eyes and Sheik saw the evil lurking there, the crimson tint polluting the normally clear blue pupils, and he wondered how this moment would change them. How this moment would change him.

Just then the trumpets on the parapets began to blare out and throughout the fortress loud bells began clanging everywhere, reverberating with a manic clamoring for attention. High strong women’s voices began to chant, to sing in unison, joining together as one carrying the message and heralding the arrival of their one true ruler.

The Dark Lord had returned home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord have mercy, this story is getting ridiculous. Like it wasn’t already, haha. I never planned on this ever being more than a oneshot so I’ve had to alter a few things. Such as DL using italics for speech. Cool effect for a oneshot where he has two lines but it makes actual dialog more difficult to decipher later on. So he gets quote marks now too.
> 
> The hypothetical plant Sheik uses to pack his wounds is based off of yarrow, a common but extremely helpful weed! It's even in the name, Achillea millefolium. They say that Achilles used yarrow to bind his soldier's wounds. Sheik is totally an herbalist healer in my headcanon.
> 
> The next chapter is already half written and coming along quickly. You might be able to guess what Link's up to right now -- his day certainly isn't getting any better, is it? At least they both know what they're up against now. That should help.
> 
> Really hope y'all enjoy!


End file.
